


Somewhere an edge forms from two sides

by rubberglue



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-14
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-06-02 05:30:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 34,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6552922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubberglue/pseuds/rubberglue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur just wants to be left alone, but thanks to fate (in the form of his sister, Morgana), he finds himself sharing his little country hideaway with Gwen Degrance. He's not interested in relationships but with Gwen around, it's getting harder and harder to remember that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [Round Table Minutes April prompts](http://roundtablemanagers.tumblr.com/post/142089115323/round-table-minutes-april-2016-theme).

When did squirrels learn to unlock doors? Didn’t one need opposable thumbs for that sort of things? Arthur was pretty sure squirrels did not have opposable thumbs, unless his secondary science teacher had lied to him. Frankly, he wouldn’t put it past Mr Richards. Arthur suspected that he made up half the stuff he taught the class. And where did the squirrels get the key to the cottage, anyway? Had Morgana buried a spare key somewhere in the garden and they dug it up instead of their nuts?

Arthur sat up in bed, clutching the covers to him as his groggy mind insisting on painting pictures of giant squirrels at the door, fumbling with keys. He blinked, then shook his head.

Yes, that was definitely the door being unlocked. But as his head cleared, he was pretty sure that it wasn’t a giant squirrel, which meant that someone was at the door.

Damn. There was a reason he’d bought this isolated cottage and it wasn’t so that he could entertain guests.

As quietly as possible, Arthur got out of bed and fumbled in the darkness for some clothes. No way was he going to confront a potential burglar naked. Just as he dug out a pair of shorts from his bag, he heard the lock finally yield to the key and the door open.

No time to dress fully now. Dragging on the shorts, Arthur moved to the bedroom door.

He stepped out gingerly into the bedroom. Before he could touch the light switch, light flooded the living room and Arthur found himself face to face with a woman he didn’t recognise. She was short with long, black curls that fell to below her shoulder and bangs that covered her eyes. Clearly not expecting him, she took a step back, her eyes wide and her lush lips slightly open. The dress she had on had thin straps, showing off the line of her shoulders and was short enough that Arthur could see her slender legs.

She was pretty. That was the first thought that popped into his head. It was obvious that his exhaustion hadn’t affected his libido.

“You’re not a squirrel.”

It had definitely affected his brains.

The woman stared at him for a beat, then from somewhere, pulled out what looked like a nail file. “Who are you? Why are you here?”

Arthur blinked and frowned. Was this tiny woman wielding a nail file and threatening him? Perhaps his mind was still playing tricks on him. Not sleeping for two days tended to do that to a person. Still, he didn’t really want to tangle with an armed woman, so he raised his arms in a gesture of peace.

“I’m Arthur. You know, the one who owns this place?”

The woman continued staring at him, then lowered the nail file. “Morgana’s brother. I suppose you bear a resemblance. Do you have ID on you?”

“Excuse me, but you’re the one breaking and entering here.” Arthur crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame. She didn’t look like she was about to lunge at him with the nail file, which was a good thing. She didn’t look like she was about to leave either, which was less than ideal because the last thing Arthur wanted was to look after a homeless waif.

Her eyes narrowed and she lifted her head. “I did not break in. I used a key. A key which Morgana gave me.”

“Who are you? And why is Morgana giving the keys to my place away?”

“She took a sudden holiday so she couldn’t housesit and -”

The idea of Morgana housesitting was the last straw and, exhausted and annoyed, Arthur snapped. “If you truly knew my sister, you would know that she hates this place. It’s in the middle of nowhere. And I never asked her to housesit. I suggest you leave right now, or I’ll call the police.”

For a brief moment, uncertainty crossed the woman’s face, but she hid it quickly. “Morgana said I could use this cottage for a while.”

“Pay attention,” said Arthur, his patience hanging by a thread. He wanted to sleep, not deal with some nutty woman. “This is my place. You are not welcomed here.”

This time, her confident demeanor evaporated and all of a sudden, she looked younger and vulnerable. Arthur frowned. He didn’t want her to look vulnerable. He wanted her out of his house. She didn’t say anything immediately but Arthur could see that her brain was whirling with thoughts.

Then she sighed. “I’ll be honest with you. I don’t actually have a place to stay right now and it’s almost midnight. And as you said, it is the middle of nowhere.”

She was right. Even he couldn’t turn a homeless woman out.

“Fine,” he said. “You can take the spare room over there. But just for tonight. Tomorrow, you’ll need to find somewhere else to stay. This isn’t a home for lost girls.”

“Thank you!” Her face broke into a smile, lighting up her eyes and for a while, Arthur couldn’t tear his eyes from her.

Obviously, he was sleep and woman-deprived. With a grunt, he went back into his room, slammed the door shut so she knew how much he didn’t want her there and collapsed into his bed, letting sleep claim him.

 

* * *

 

Gwen’s heart was pounding so hard, she felt that it might burst out of her ribcage and make a dash for it. Once the door slammed, she let out the breath she had been holding. The worse thing was that she wasn’t sure if her heart was racing because she was a hair breadth away from being thrown out of the cottage or because she had been standing within touching distance of a very sexy, mostly naked man. It had taken all of her willpower not to let her eyes drift any lower than his collar bone.

Taking a few bracing breaths, Gwen picked up her duffel bag, then walked to the room that Arthur had gestured to. A single bed called out to her and gratefully, she sank into its embrace and closed her eyes. Tomorrow, she told herself. Tomorrow she would sort out the mess she was in.

Light. Coffee. Gwen blinked a few times. Why was her bed next to the window? Then, she remembered. Naked man. Nail file. Morgana. She had to get hold of Morgana and find out what on earth was happening. Morgana had promised Gwen that her step-brother wouldn’t be home for at least two months and Gwen could use the cottage as a retreat to write her book, if she was willing to housesit.

She rummaged through her purse, finally emptying it on the bed, before she found her phone. A few taps and she was connected to Morgana. Actually, she was connected to Morgana’s voice mail. Gwen tried again but much to her frustration, she kept getting Morgana’s voice mail. After her fourth try, Gwen tossed her phone onto the bed, then flopped back down on it, burying her face into the pillow. The smell of coffee that wafted into the room told her that Arthur was up and about. If she left the room, she would have to face him. Immediately, her mind flashed back to his rumpled, mostly naked state and she felt heat burn in her cheeks. She couldn’t face him. Maybe she could stay in this room forever.

Her bladder didn’t like that plan and made its objection known quite urgently.

Checking that she looked somewhat presentable, Gwen grabbed her toiletries and peered out of the room. She didn’t see anyone in the living room so slowly, she crept out. She knew which door led to Arthur’s room so the other door had to be the bathroom. When she made it successfully into the bathroom, Gwen closed the door, leaning against it in relief.

A quick shower later, Gwen was feeling much better and a lot more in control. All she had to do was to explain to Arthur how this whole situation came about and surely he would help her find a solution. After all, he had a reputation for being generous and kind, if somewhat private. Unlike Morgana, Arthur Penn didn’t court the limelight. He attended charity events occasionally, gifting large donations, but was rarely part of the social scene that Morgana travelled in.

Giving herself a quick pep talk, Gwen opened the door and stepped out. The cottage was still empty and she wondered if Arthur was trying to avoid her. Perhaps he expected her to clear out by the time he returned. Something she would have done, if she hadn’t rented out her apartment. Gwen went back to the guest room, made her bed and ran a brush through her hair. She might not be able to hide in this room forever, but she could definitely try. Pulling out her battered notebook and pen, Gwen settled down on the bed and within minutes, she had drifted off to a land of dragons, magic and princesses

She wasn’t sure how long she’d been making notes when the knock came.

“Are you planning to hide in there forever?”

“Of course not,” Gwen said, scrambling off the bed. Tucking her notebook under the pillow, she walked to the door and opened it.

Arthur stood across the threshold, in a tight cotton tee and shorts that moulded to his very fine butt. His hair was damp and slicked back and a thin layer of sweat suggested that he’d just returned from some exercise. When she exercised, she looked like a drowned rat. Arthur apparently looked like a cover model with aesthetically pleasing sweat.

“Are you done looking at me?”

Heat rushed through Gwen but she made herself meet his gaze. “I’m just repaying the favour. You took a good look last night.”

“That was because I was surprised to find a strange woman breaking into my home in the middle of the night.”

“It’s not breaking in if I have the key.”

“A key you claim my mysteriously uncontactable step-sister gave you.” He raised an eyebrow. “Maybe you lifted it from my sister. God knows how careless she can be with her belongings. Was she at some party where you waited and she conveniently left her purse on the table?”

Gwen wondered how much she would regret marring that gorgeous face by punching it. Not much, she suspected. But she would probably regret being sent to jail for assault. Maybe.

“Do you also think I murdered your sister and that’s why she’s uncontactable now?” Her fingers curled into her palms, just in case she changed her mind. After all a stint in jail might add some authenticity to her writing. Didn’t the best authors always go through some form of hardship?

One side of his lips quirked. “I might give you a reward for that. Did you do it quickly? Or did she suffer?”

Unnerved by his sudden good humour, Gwen’s immediate reaction was to scowl at him, which turned the little smirk on his face into a full-blown smile.

Then, he gestured to the kitchen. “How about some breakfast before you leave? I make a mean scrambled eggs.”

“Leave?”

The smile faded. “Well, yes. Whatever it is Morgana told you, obviously I am here now so you can’t stay.”

“Right. Remember I told you last night that I didn’t have a place to stay? Funny thing but I still don’t have a place to stay now.”

“The city is about a two hour drive away. You can probably find a bed and breakfast there,” said Arthur, the warm humour that had been in his voice just moments ago replaced by a coolness that made Gwen even more defensive.

“I cannot afford to stay at a bed and breakfast for a month.”

Arthur shrugged and turned away. “That’s hardly my problem. This is my house and unfortunately, as I said last night, you can’t stay.”

Panicked, Gwen reached out and grabbed his arm, stopping him from walking away. His skin was warm and smooth, and he didn’t pull away, although he frowned at her. “Look, I appreciate that you don’t want me here but Morgana promised me that I could stay here for 2 months and so I rented out my own apartment -”

This time, he pulled his arm from her grip. “Do you want money? I admit that this is a new scam but if money will get you to leave, then fine. How much do you want?”

The urge to punch him rose in Gwen again but instead she sucked in a breath. “I don’t want money. I don’t even want to stay here anymore, especially not with you around. But I don’t seem to have much of a choice.”

“You know, for someone who wants to persuade me to let her stay in my house, you’re being very disagreeable.”

“That happens when you’re accused of being a thief, then a scam artist,” muttered Gwen, even as the more sensible part of her brain told her that she should really be scraping at his feet for his goodwill. Yet, there was something about him that roused her ire. She closed her eyes, willing her temper to subside. She needed to channel Heather, the calm, patient and level-headed dragon rider from her book. “I don’t have money but I have skills. I can cook and clean this place in exchange for you letting me stay on. And you won’t even know I’m here. I’ll stay in the room most of the time and out of your way.”

Arthur dragged a hand through his hair.

Gwen bit her bottom lip and tried to look vulnerable, widening her eyes slightly and bowing her head. “If you throw me out, I’ll have to sleep on the streets. Morgana would not be happy.”

Arthur closed his eyes and let out a sigh. “You are a manipulative one and I am going to regret this, but fine. You can stay in the guest room. Just keep out of my way.”

“Thank you. I promise that you wouldn’t know I’m here.”

“I doubt it,” he said before he disappeared into his bedroom and slammed his door again.


	2. Chapter 2

He didn’t know her name or how she knew Morgana. And yet, he’d told her she could stay. What a fool. For all he knew, she really was a scam artist. A pretty face, a sob story and he was easy pickings. Arthur picked up the soap and rubbed it over his chest with much more force than necessary. At least, thinking of her meant he wasn’t replaying the surgery from yesterday over and over again.

And she was easy to think about.

From behind his closed lids, her image floated in front of him. Her curls were loose around her shoulders, framing her face with those brown eyes that threatened to drown him. Her hair, he imagined, would feel like silk against his body, and would smell like flowers. He wondered if the freckles that dusted across her nose and cheeks could also be found on other hidden parts of her body. He let out a groan, thankful that the water masked it, as his soapy hand drifted lower and his fingers, without thinking, wrapped around his quickly stiffening length.

The smell of bacon, eggs and toast assaulted him when he stepped out of his bedroom. His stomach immediately rumbled, pleased at the prospect of breakfast that was not cold cereal or an energy bar. Stepping into the kitchen, Arthur saw her at the sink, her hair now tied up into a messy bun, doing some washing. The dress she wore skimmed her curves and the sunlight that filled the kitchen made her hair and skin glow like an angel.

He scowled, annoyed at his attraction to her and annoyed that she was already breaking her promise to stay out of his way.

“Hey!” She swung around, a spatula still in her hand and a bright smile on her face. “I made breakfast.”

“I didn’t ask for breakfast.” He knew he sounded rude and ungrateful, but he hadn’t asked her to cook him breakfast and he hadn’t asked her to stand around in his kitchen, reminding him of things he couldn’t have. As an example of just how petulant and childish he could be, Arthur crossed over to the larder and pulled out a box of cereal and as she silently watched, poured a bowl of it, poured milk over it, then studiously ignoring the large plate of breakfast, shoved a spoon of cereal into his mouth.

She laughed.

He looked up and glared at her.

“You are a child.” Then she turned back to the sink, finished up the washing, picked up a plate of food and walked out of the kitchen.

Once Arthur was sure she’d gone back into the guest room, he took a few more mouthfuls of his cereal. After checking once more that he was alone in the kitchen, he took a piece of bacon from the plate next to him. Then, since it would be a waste to not eat the rest of the food, Arthur ate it all. The warm shower and the warm breakfast combined forces and a pleasant haze of drowsiness settled over him. He dropped the plates into the sink, then padded over to the living room. He passed the shut door of his guest room, and he paused. Guilt tugged at him. He wasn’t usually so rude, but there was something about this woman that made him feel both defensive and on the edge.

Arthur made a sharp turn, and before he could talk himself out of it, rapped on the door.

He heard movement, swear words and a soft oof, before the door finally swung open.

“Can I help you?” She lifted her brows and tilted her head.

“I don’t know your name,” he said gruffly. He shoved his hands into his jeans so he wouldn’t be tempted to tuck the stray curl behind her ear.

“Guinevere, but most people call me Gwen.”

“And how do you know Morgana?”

“I interviewed her for Gemstone Magazine and we hit it off. We’ve been friends for a while.”

“Right. And how long do you plan to stay here?”

The coolness in her gaze faded and Arthur thought that he could see her cheeks flush slightly. “Morgana said that you like your privacy, which is why you bought this place.”

“Morgana talks too much.”

“And I know I’m encroaching on your privacy. I’m really sorry but -”

Arthur waved a hand. “I already said you could stay.”

Her expression brightened and Arthur took a step back, unnerved by how much he liked her smile. He didn’t want to create connections with anyone, and definitely not anyone who looked like her and who would leave in two months.

“Thank you. If you give me a list of things you want me to do -”

“I don’t want you to do anything. Just do whatever you wanted to do here and keep out of my way.”

Her smiled dimmed. “I’ll stay in this room as much as I can.”

“Good,” he said. Shoving his hands back into his pocket, he turned around before he remembered why he’d knocked on the door in the first place. “Breakfast was good. Thank you.”

She made a noise, a cross between a snort and a laugh. “You ate it.”

“Didn’t want it to go to waste.”

“Of course.”

He walked to his sofa, painfully aware that she was watching him. It was only after he sank into the sofa that he heard the door close quietly. He pulled out his phone.

_What the hell are you up to, Morgana?_

She didn’t answer, not that he’d expected her to. He texted Merlin next, asking for updates on the emergency ward. Did they need him back? Because he could return to work any time. Now, preferably. It was only an hour and a half drive away.

_txt me again abt work n i will tell on u._

_Use English, Merlin._

_i m wrking er - no time 4 grmar._

Arthur rolled his eyes, then dropped his phone onto the sofa. He switched on the television and cycled through the channels, until he came to a soap opera. Brainless and entertaining. Just what he needed.

 

* * *

 

Gwen fluctuated between feeling guilty and feeling annoyed. How rude was Arthur? The breakfast had been a gesture of goodwill, an attempt at starting over, but he’d barely spared it glance before grabbing his cereal. And when their eyes had met, he’d seemed almost angry with her. For cooking breakfast.

What an ass.

Only, now, as she looked at him asleep on the sofa, one arm thrown across his face, she felt guilty. This was clearly his sanctuary, his escape and she, someone he didn’t know at all, had invaded it. Gwen tried to remember what Morgana had said about her brother, but aside from the fact that he was a surgeon and worked at Albion Mercy, Gwen knew nothing about him.

Lying across the sofa, Arthur’s face was relaxed and his lips slightly parted. His other arm lay across his stomach, rising and falling as he breathed. The t-shirt he wore had ridden up and a strip of bare skin caught Gwen’s eyes. He had nice legs, Gwen thought, and he was clearly in good shape. But then, she remembered the dark smudged under his eyes and the tension lines in his face at breakfast.

She didn’t know why he needed a sanctuary. She didn’t know why he was so exhausted that he was napping before lunch. And she didn’t know why she was feeling concern for him.

With a shake of her head, Gwen picked up the remote control and switched the television off. The past two hours in the room had been completely unproductive and she was planning to go for a walk, see the surroundings and perhaps get her creative muse back. The whole idea of coming here for two months was to try and work through her writer’s block. Back home, in her small apartment, she’d been feeling trapped, bored and overwhelmed by the increasing demands of her father. Then, Morgana had offered her Arthur’s cottage as an escape.

Look where that had gotten her. Instead of finding her creativity in a gorgeous little cottage, she was stuck with Mr Rude and Too Sexy and she had little hope that this would help with her writer’s block. Perhaps she should turn her book into a bodice ripper, starring Mr Rude and Too Sexy. Or a murder mystery.

She’d barely pulled on her boots, when she heard Arthur move.

“Where are you going?” His voice was rough with sleep, and when she looked over at him, his hair was mussed and his eyes, half-lidded. In response, her treacherous body heated up.

“Out,” she squeaked. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Out for a walk.”

He eased himself off the sofa and ran a hand through his hair, succeeding only in messing it up more and somehow making himself even more attractive. “I gathered that. Do you even know this area?”

“I won’t go far.”

He frowned and blinked a few times. “Give me a moment. I’ll go with you.”

“Why?”

“Because you don’t know this area and I don’t want to have to rescue you later when you invariably get yourself into trouble.”

“I am perfectly capable of looking after myself.”

Arthur grunted. “No, you’re not. You don’t even have proper shoes. Those are city boots. Let me just get my shoes.”

“Brilliant,” said Gwen. That murder mystery was sounding like a better idea. She could write a whole chapter dedicated to the slow and painful death of Arthur Penn.

Once Arthur got his shoes on, they stepped out of the cottage. Having arrived in the middle of the night, she hadn’t quite had the chance to see the surroundings of the cottage. They walked in silence, Gwen slightly behind Arthur who had muttered something about a scenic route, stuffed his hands into his pockets then marched on ahead.

It definitely was a scenic route, although Gwen caught herself looking at Arthur’s back and bum instead of the lush fields that surround them. It was his fault she couldn’t stop sneaking glances at him. Surely there had to be a rule somewhere about men wearing too tight jeans and t-shirts.

“Keep up.” He turned just as she was scowling at his bum. “What’s wrong? Are you tired already? It’s those awful, impractical boots you have on.”

She glared at him. “I’m fine. Just keep moving.”

He looked like he was about to say something, then stopped and continued stomping on all the poor vegetation that got in his way.

There was a rough path which Arthur kept to and it led Gwen through a wide field that was blanketed with wildflowers of various hues, and Gwen paused every now and then to take a few photos. Even though at times, Arthur had had to stop for her to take her photos, he said nothing, simply standing there until she was ready to walk again. Every now and then, as she fussed with the camera settings on her phone, Gwen could feel his eyes on her but when she looked at him, he would avert his eyes.

He was right about her boots. As good as they looked on her feet, they were not made for walking on uneven land and several times, her heel would catch on something or it would sink into the soil and she would have to take a moment to regain her balance. Most of this happened behind Arthur’s back, much to Gwen’s relief, because he might be right, but that didn’t mean she wanted him to know he was right.

Gwen had stopped to take a photo of some bluebells. Crouching down and balancing delicately on her heeled boots, she focused her camera on the flowers. Some distance away, Arthur stood, staring pensively into the distance, his handsome profile outlined by the blue sky. For some reason, Gwen moved her phone, until Arthur was centered on the screen. Before she could think twice, her thumb slid over the shutter button and she snapped a photo of him. As if in penance, she quickly took multiple photos of the bluebells before standing up.

They continued walking, past fields holding cows, sheep and the occasional horses. Morgana wasn’t lying about just how beautiful this part of Albion was.

“Morgana doesn’t come here often?”

Arthur slowed, allowing her to fall into step with him. “Only when she wants something from me. She definitely doesn’t housesit.”

“What do you think she’s up to?”

He stopped and turned to face her. “Probably thinks that you can fix me.”

“Why do you need fixing?”

He snorted, then continued walking. “I don’t. So don’t even try.”

Gwen watched as he walked onwards, wondering if she wanted to push the matter. “It’s probably your bad manners,” she called out. “That’s what needs fixing.”

“Nothing says good manners like imposing yourself on someone’s hospitality.”

He had a point and the guilt that she’d managed to ignore came flaring to life in her. For all his brusqueness, it wasn’t his fault that he’d been thrown into this position. Reaching out, she touched him, her fingers brushing against his elbow.

“I’m sorry.”

Perhaps if she called her agent, they would be able to nicely evict her tenant and she would be able to give Arthur back his house and his isolation.

He sighed, then pulled away from her touch by lifting his hand to run it through his hair. “I’m sorry as well. It seems to me that it’s all Morgana’s fault. And as you can tell, I am not exactly wanting company.”

“I’ll keep out of your hair.”

He stuffed his hands in his pockets again, then rocked back on his heels. “I’m sure we can work something out. Looks, it’s almost lunch time. I’ve frozen pizza back home.”

“A man after my own heart,” Gwen said teasingly, wanting to build on what seemed like a thaw in their relationships.

But Arthur frowned. “I don’t need fixing.” And then, he stalked off back in the direction of the house.

Gwen thought there was clearly something going on with Arthur, but whatever tricks Morgana had up her sleeves, there was no way Gwen was going to be sucked into it. All she needed to do was to keep out of Arthur’s way and finish the first draft of her book.

By the time, they reached Arthur’s house, Gwen’s feet and ankles were hurting. Pulling off her boots, she perched on the sofa and rubbed her feet. Arthur saw her, lifted his eyebrows as if saying I told you, then shrugged and walked into the kitchen. Childishly, she stuck out her tongue at his retreating back. After the blood started flowing through her feet, she walked into the kitchen and watched appreciatively as he bent over to dig out the frozen pizzas from the freezer.

For all his faults, he did have a very nice bum.

“Mushroom and chicken ok with you?”

“Yeah. Anything I can do to help?”

“Plates are above the sink. And cutlery, in the drawer next to the sink.” Arthur stood, ruining the view for Gwen.

“Ok.”

The kitchen wasn’t very big, which meant that as she set the table and as Arthur popped the pizzas into the small oven, they were often bumping into each other. At one point, Gwen turned, plates in her hands, right smack into Arthur.

Immediately, his hands landed on her hips, steadying her.

They were standing so close, Gwen thought she could get a whiff of the cologne he used - something woody. Only the plates that she was holding separated their chests. His eyes looked darker and Arthur didn’t seem as if he was going to move.

“Sorry.” She had been aiming for friendly, but somehow that one word came out breathy.

One of his hands left her hips and pushed a strand of her hair off her face.

Gwen stared at him, staring back at her.

Oh god, he was going to kiss her. And Gwen knew that instead of pushing away or kneeing him in the groin, she was going to let him kiss her.

She licked her lips.

His eyes darted to them.

Then, suddenly, Arthur was no longer in front of her, his hand no longer on her hip. “There’s another 10 minutes before the pizza is ready. We can eat in front of the television.”

And Gwen was alone in the kitchen, the plates still clutched to her chest. She closed her eyes and wondered why she was actually feeling sad that Arthur Penn, the pain in the ass, hadn’t kissed her. Heather would roll her eyes and thank the dragons that Arthur hadn’t tried anything. Heather wouldn’t be standing in the kitchen, feeling rejected.

But maybe, a little shake up in Heather’s romantic life was what was needed. Placing the plates on the counter, Gwen went back into the guest room and pulled out her notebook. Heather had been in an established relationship with Nani, but now, as Gwen’s mind raced, a new dragon rider appeared, all swagger and confidence and Heather both disliked and lusted over her.

As Gwen put her notebook back under the pillow, she smiled. Perhaps this little stay in Arthur’s cottage would be just what she needed.


	3. Chapter 3

He’d suggested eating in front of the television but coward that he was, Arthur found himself eating his pizza in his bedroom, which was an example of everything that was wrong with this arrangement. Ordinarily, the idea of bringing food into his room would have horrified Arthur, and yet it was preferable to spending more time with Gwen. Although the door to his room was closed, he could hear the muffled sounds from the television. In his mind, he could picture Gwen sitting on the sofa. He imagined that she was the sort who sat on sofas with their legs crossed, the plate of pizza balancing delicately on her lap as she flicked through the channels. He wondered what she would watch. A nature documentary? She’d seemed utterly fascinated by the flowers they had passed that morning. Or maybe she was like Sophia who enjoyed crime drama.

Arthur had never brought Sophia here - their relationship crumbling just as he started the buying process of this house, which was unfortunate since he’d bought this house, planning to propose to Sophia. One year later and thinking about Sophia still made his heart hurt. They had been the golden couple, both literally and metaphorically. She was bubbly and gregarious, leading him through all the social events that his father forced on him. When Sophia was by his side, Arthur had felt like he could do anything, even tolerate his father’s not so subtle attempts to get him to change specialisation.

And then, it had all blown up in his face and he was left with this house that he didn’t even like all that much.

Annoyed that he was dredging up memories that he had buried long ago, Arthur slammed his plate of half-eaten pizza onto his bedside table. He wasn’t hungry anymore and it was high time that Morgana explained herself.

To his surprise, she answered on the third ring.

“Dad didn’t tell me that you were on extended leave. I hope you haven’t frightened Gwen away!”

“A bear couldn’t frighten your friend away. Why did you tell her she could stay here?”

“Look, you have barely stayed in that place since you bought it and that happened. And Gwen needed an escape. Seemed like a good idea. How was I supposed to know that Dad put you on extended leave?”

“Dad did not put me on extended leave.”

Disbelief laced Morgana’s voice. “Really, because you would take three weeks off work of your own accord? You haven’t taken a break since - you know what, maybe it would be good for you to play host to Gwen. She’s a wonderful person. Warm, talented and fun.”

“Morgana,” said Arthur warningly, but she ignored him and pressed on.

“I’m not asking you to get into a relationship with her. In fact, don’t. She deserves someone better than you. But you could do with a friend who isn’t as useless as Merlin.”

“Morgana! I’m here because I want to sell the place.” That shut her up.

“Good,” she finally said. “That’s good.”

“Yeah. Anyway, your friend can stay. I told her she could.”

“I wasn’t trying to interfere, Arthur. I really thought the place would be empty.”

Arthur sighed. “Next time, ask me first before you start giving away my things.”

“As I said, it would be good for you to have a friend who isn’t Merlin.” In the background, Arthur heard the beginnings of baby crying and he smiled. Morgana, a mother. That was something he’d never thought would happen. Of the two of them, he was the one who always seemed more likely to go the traditional route - marriage and babies while Morgana made her way through all of polite and impolite society. But look at them now. “Gerty is up. Want to talk to her?”

“Of course. Put her on.”

Gertrude whined into Arthur’s ear for a good minute or so before she finally broke into a full power cry. Morgana took her away.

“She says she misses you.”

“I suspect she misses her food more than me.”

“Go. I’ll explain things to her. Say hi to Gwaine and the little one for me.”

“You should come visit,” said Morgana.

“I will. Maybe after I sell this place.”

They spoke a while more about Gwaine and Gertrude, their adopted daughter, while carefully avoiding talking about their father. Then, Morgana made him promise to be good to Gwen upon the threat of having his genitals slowly and painfully removed. After Arthur put down the phone, he thought he could hear singing. He opened his door slightly, curious as to what Gwen was up to. From where he stood, he caught glimpses of her dancing as she sung in the kitchen, twirling with the empty pizza box. Her hair bounced, catching the sunlight at times, and her smile was wide and infectious, like germs.

Despite his better judgement, Arthur stood at his door, watching her, mesmerised. What kind of life did she live? Was she always so happy, so free? Or was she running away from something as well? He scowled at himself. He did not want answers to these questions. What he wanted was to sell off this place quickly, return to the city and to his job where he could stop having utterly pointless thoughts.

When she slowed down and her singing stopped, he quickly slipped back into his bedroom and closed the door. Leaning against it, he let out a breath and closed his eyes. Immediately, his mind went back to There were many reasons not to get involved with Gwen. First, she was Morgana’s friend. Second, she was not his type - he tended to prefer blondes. Most importantly, she looked like the type who threw her whole heart into everything and Arthur could not offer her the same.

_Merlin, you know how you’ve always wanted to see my place in the country? Come by after your shift. Bring dinner and drinks for 3._

Arthur tossed his phone on the bed, picked up his plate and took a deep breath. It was ridiculous to hide in here. He was a grown man and he shouldn’t be afraid of that small slip of a woman, dancing in his kitchen.

Right, said a small voice in his head. That’s why you practically begged Merlin to come over.

 

* * *

 

Normally, Gwen enjoyed a decent crime show, and she usually didn’t mind reruns. But although a rerun of her favourite crime duo were currently bickering on television, her mind was more preoccupied with the difficult, sulky man hiding in his bedroom. She took a bite of her pizza and contemplated him. Arthur Penn was a doctor, a well-regarded one according to Morgana, although there might have been some sibling bias at work. Gwen had a hard time picturing the petulant and childish Arthur actually being a doctor. Did he stomp off in a huff if a patient questioned him?

Still, despite his faults, Gwen had to admit that he was a very nice male specimen, and the strange push-pull energy that existed between them was definitely helping with her book. Selina might not be male, but in every other way, she was Arthur Penn. The top medic in the Dragon Forces, arrogant and curt. Heather loathed the way Selina treated others, and yet she felt a dangerous attraction to Selina, one that she was determined never to act on,especially with a war looming around the corner.

As disastrous as this writing retreat had started out, it was clearly paying off. Gwen hadn’t been this excited about her novel in months and if she kept this up, she might just be able to submit a draft to her editor before the deadline. Pleased with herself, Gwen swiped up the crumbs from her plate and moved to the kitchen, eager to finish up lunch and work on her book. It started with a hum, then as she reached the chorus of the song and the kitchen, she started to sing, the songs simply bubbling out of her. For months, she’d been struggling with her writing, her enthusiasm for her book dwindling with every day that she sat at her desk, staring at a blank page that stared back at her. Her editor had called a few times, wanting updates and Gwen had, much to her shame, lied about how much she was getting done.

And now, it was like she’d stepped out of a fog. Her mind was working again, her imagination spinning at full speed and her limbs all ready to write.

It was brilliant and she was feeling positively giddy.

She twirled around the kitchen island, and grabbed the empty pizza box that Arthur had tossed on it. She sang the chorus once more with feeling, swung the pizza box around before dumping it into the bin and striking what Gwen thought was a suitable, post dance pose.

Gwen had just washed her plate when she heard footsteps.

“Want me to wash that for you?” She reached out for the plate, unfazed when Arthur hesitated. It was obvious that his first reaction to anything she did was rejection. “Come on. I’m already at the sink.”

He handed the plate over and muttered a thank you.

Gwen expected him to return to his room but instead his stood there, leaning against the kitchen island, watching her. With a shrug, she turned back to the sink and started washing. Placing the plate on the dish rack, she turned back to see Arthur still standing there, arms folded across his broad chest and his eyes tracking her movement.

“Are you about to critique my washing technique?”

“There is a dishwasher.”

“For two plates? It wasn’t a problem.” Gwen wiped her damp hands on her jeans. “So, what do you do when you’re here? Garden? Some DIY fix-it thing?”

The question seemed to surprise him and he frowned. “There’s a stream nearby. I might do some fishing.”

“Really? You don’t seem like the fishing sort.”

His lips twitched, almost forming a smile. “And what sort do I seem?”

“With your looks, I imagine that you would spend your free time wining, dining and bedding - uh - animals? I mean, you look like an animal lover, and by bedding, I mean giving them a loving home -” Gwen could feel the heat in her cheeks and she cursed the lack of a filter between her thoughts and her mouth.

This time, Arthur’s lips were definitely curved into a smile. “I do like animals, actually.”

“So do I!” Perhaps she could steer the conversation to something innocent, like animals, which she had already tainted. So, instead, she said inanely, “I like dogs.”

“Me too. I used to have one when I was a kid, but he died a few years ago. Even my father managed to look sad about it.”

Gwen nodded. “I always wanted a dog but living in a small apartment in the city meant that I couldn’t really get one. Plus, I couldn’t manage both a dog and my father.”

“Your father?”

“He’s not well. Cancer. You know.” Gwen tugged at her hair. She didn’t like talking about her father and she wasn’t about to spill her heart to Arthur. “Happens all the time.”

But his hand was suddenly covering hers, a warm, solid, comforting weight. “I’m sorry. It’s not easy.”

“No, but so far the prognosis has been good.” Gwen tried for a smile, but she suspected that it didn’t quite reach her eyes, because Arthur was now looking at her with soft, sympathetic eyes. This was probably why he was a good doctor. All he had to do was to turn his doe eyes on a patient and they would feel better.

“Where is he now?”

“My brother is looking after him,” Gwen said, pulling her hand away. “I called him just before lunch and he was feeling fine.”

“Hey, I wasn’t suggesting that you weren’t looking after him.”

“Of course not.” Gwen knew she was being unreasonable, but she didn’t need Arthur judging her or surfacing all the guilt and fear that she buried in her heart. “I need to work on my writing now.”

Arthur nodded but said nothing, except to watch her with those eyes.

Just as she reached the door to her room, he finally spoke. “I’m driving down to the town. Do you need me to pick up anything?”

“The fridge is empty, so I guess we’ll need food for dinner.”

“A friend is coming over with dinner.”

“Ok.” Gwen walked back into her room and shut the door. She wondered if Arthur’s friend was more than a friend. After all, Morgana had said that Arthur had bought this place to be alone, which meant anyone he brought over should be special. She couldn’t believe that she was feeling pangs of jealousy.

But Heather would feel the same way, and she would feel just as annoyed.

Gwen took her notebook out, uncapped her pen and started to write.

 

* * *

 

“You wrote The Dragon Egg!” Merlin exclaimed, his drink splashing out of the bottle in his excitement. “I love it. And you’re here working on the sequel? Oh my god. I’m going to bring my copy of the book the next time I come and you have to autograph it for me.”

From his position on the armchair, Arthur watched as Gwen blushed prettily under Merlin’s heaping of praise. He had no idea what book it was that Gwen was the author of - fantasy wasn’t quite his choice of reading material - but Merlin was clearly thrilled. Inviting Merlin over was a stroke of genius on his part. Surely his lavish praise would help Gwen get over her writer’s block.

“Do you know that Arthur has never invited me over here, despite the blatant hints that I’ve dropped over the years. Then suddenly, he texts me, practically demanding that I come by for dinner.”

Gwen looked curiously at him. “I guess this used to be a private place, until I crashed into it.”

Arthur stood. “Ice cream? Merlin brought some.”

“I was surprised when he bought it. If you know Arthur, you know he is a city boy -”

“Merlin. Show me where you put the ice cream.”

“It’s in -”

“Merlin.”

Once they stepped into the kitchen, Arthur turned to Merlin. “She is a guest. Not our new best friend. Stop talking about me.”

Merlin shrugged as he opened the freezer. “She’s Morgana’s friend. I’m sure she knows a lot about you. I bet Morgana showed her embarrassing baby photos.” The ice cream tub in his hands, Merlin grinned. “I’m glad you have company while you’re here. I confess I was a bit worried when you told me you were going to spend your leave here.”

“I’m a big boy,” said Arthur. “Living alone in the country would hardly be dangerous.”

“I wasn’t worried about your physical safety. More like your emotional well-being.” Merlin glanced at the living room, then lowered his voice. “Being here, with all the memories -”

“I’ve never been here for more than a day. There aren’t any memories.”

“You know, if you don’t talk about it, it’s just going to eat you up from the inside.”

Arthur scowled. “When did you change specialisation to psychiatry?”

Merlin let out a long sigh. “Fine. Be like that. Now, I’m going to serve my favourite author some ice cream.”

Merlin hung around for a while more, spending most of his time trying to wheedle out spoilers from Gwen’s sequel, but Gwen was adept at fending him off. They played a card game before Merlin said he had to go before it got too late.

Gwen was straightening the cushions on the sofa when Arthur came back from walking Merlin out.

“You really don’t have to do any housework to stay here.”

Clutching a cushion to her chest, Gwen smiled slightly. “I feel bad for invading your sanctuary.”

Arthur snorted. “I don’t know what Morgana has been telling you, but one reason I have never invited Merlin over is that I don’t come here.”

“Not to fish?”

“You were right about me not being the fishing sort.”

“To escape your high pressure job?”

A slight frown marred her forehead, and the urge to run his thumb over the slight lines to smoothen them out suddenly gripped Arthur. He slid his hands into his pockets. “No,” he said, aware that the word came out a little harshly.

“Why are you here now?”

“I’m here to pack this place up, then put it on the market to be sold.”

She blinked, the frown deepening. “So it’s not your sanctuary.”

“It’s not. I hate this place and the quicker I get rid of it, the better. But you can stay for now. I doubt that I’m going to get it sold so quickly.”

He could see all the questions in her eyes. Writers, he supposed, were nosy sorts. But all she did was place the cushion back onto the sofa.

“Good night, Arthur. I enjoyed meeting Merlin.” Gwen stood in the middle of the living room, looking at him. The dim lights made her look even softer, almost vulnerable, and that pull of attraction he’d felt towards her seemed to tug even harder, drawing him to stand closer to her.

“Good night, Gwen.”

Desire, want and need shimmered between them. She could feel it too. Her lips were parted, her chest rising and falling while her eyes bore into his. It would be so easy to close that distance, brush his lips against hers and quench the fires that were slowly kindling in him.

But fires burned and Arthur wasn’t interested in getting burnt again.

So he took a step backward, turned and walked away.


	4. Chapter 4

“Good morning. Nothing in the fridge so all we have is coffee.” Arthur gestured to the pot on the counter and tried not to notice that Gwen’s choice of sleepwear was a loose t-shirt and very tiny shorts.

She yawned, stretched and ran a hand over her face, revealing to him a tiny stretch of skin between the band of her shorts and her top. Who knew that could be so sexy?

“I hope you slept well.”

Gwen cocked her head and looked at him, amusement in her eyes. “You must have slept well since you’re being all friendly.”

He shook his head and poured a mug of coffee, passing it to her. She flashed him a smile and cradled it in her hands.

“Since the fridge is still empty, I’m going to pop down to town to pick some things up.” He meant only to inform her, but, clearly distracted by how adorable she looked, sleepy and smiley, he continued. “If you want to come along -”

“Oh yes! It would be great to see the town.” She smiled at him over the mug, her eyes brightening. “We could have lunch there?”

There was no way Arthur could say no to her. “Sure. The Internet tells me that there’s a nice pub in the town that serves great fish and chips.”

“Sounds good. When do you want to leave?” She was practically bouncing and a strange feeling unfurled in his chest.

“Half an hour?”

“I’ll be ready.” She took another sip of her coffee, then smiled at him.

True to her word, in exactly half an hour, she walked out of her room, in another pair of shorts that didn’t hide much more and with the added temptation of brown shoulders revealed by the tank top she now wore. Sunglasses dangled from her hand and she grinned when she saw him.

“Let’s go.”

“I was hoping to get to sit in your car.” She climbed in, then wriggled in the seat in the most distracting way. Then, to compound his discomfort, she sighed, a long, sultry sigh. “Oh. These seats are the best.”

Arthur quickly started the car engine and pulled out of the driveway before he lost his mind and did something like haul her over the center console and into his lap. Think of something non-sexual. “The town is small but they have all the necessities, like a supermarket, a bank, a post-office and well, other stuff that a town needs.”

He made the mistake of glancing over at Gwen, who was turned towards him and had one hand tucked between her cheek and the seat. Her legs were drawn up, her knees knocking into center console. With her eyes half shut and a slight smile on her face, she looked like a satisfied cat about to purr, but it was her other hand that caught his attention. It sat, almost innocently, on the seat, but her fingers were moving, stroking the leather and for the first time, Arthur felt almost jealous of the seat. What would it feel like? Having Gwen run her fingers over his body in that manner?

_Heavenly._

“Are you alright?”

He focused on the road, his fingers gripping the wheel. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I thought I heard you groan.”

Embarrassment was a great antidote to horniness, Arthur realised. “It was probably the wind.”

“Ok,” she said. And from the corner of his eye, he saw her stroke the car seat again.

“Stop rubbing your hands over the seats. It’ll wear the leather out.”

She lifted her hands up, shifting so she was sitting up straight. The apology she offered sounded more amused than apologetic. Arthur turned on the radio and let the newest boy band fill the silence in the car.

First on the agenda was visiting the real estate agent.

“You’re really selling this place?”

“That’s what I said. Why would I lie to you?” He pushed open the door, holding it open for Gwen to walk through.

“It’s such a lovely place.”

“Do you want to buy it?”

“If I could, I would. I can just see myself here when I need to write. And when I’m having trouble, I could take a walk outside, breath in the fresh air, take in the gorgeous scenery and just get my writing groove going.”

“Well, I’m not a writer. This shouldn’t -”

“Ah!” An elderly man, one Arthur recognised as the same man who had sold him this house, walked up to them. “Dr. Penn. It’s been a while.”

Arthur shook his offered hand. “Mr Green.”

“And you must be the lucky lady, Ms Sophia.”

Gwen smiled. “Oh no. I’m Gwen. It’s nice to meet you.”

Immediately, Tristan Green pinned Arthur with a look, one that suggested that he’d jumped to several wrong conclusions. But Arthur wasn’t in the mood to discuss his personal matters.

“I’m here about the house I bought from you.”

“Yes,” said Tristan warily. “The Dream Cottage.”

“The Dream Cottage. What an apt name,” said Gwen, clasping her hands together. “The cottage is so beautiful and it’s in such a perfect location.”

Tristan perked up at Gwen’s words. “She is a beauty. And there’s so much history behind her. Tragic but terribly romantic.”

“Great,” interrupted Arthur before the two of them got carried away. “So it should be easy to find a buyer for it.”

The warmth drained from Tristan’s face. “You have barely had it for a year.”

“Yes. And now I want to sell it and seeing that you’re the only real estate agent in town, I am coming to you.”

“Of course. If you come to the back, we can start the paperwork.”

It didn’t take long and Gwen spent the time chatting with Tristan’s assistant about the town. By the time Arthur scrawled his signature on the last piece of paper, Gwen was bursting with information about the town, so he let her chatter about it as they walked down to the small supermarket. She told him about the origins of the town, about Mrs Singh who lived down the road from him and the goat farm that she ran, about the old abandoned hut that sat near the lake.

He wasn’t all that interested in the town but Gwen was a great storyteller, and by the time they reached the supermarket, he found himself in deep discussion with her about the possibilities of ghosts in the old abandoned hut.

“ … and he’s there, just waiting for the right moment to get his revenge. Only he doesn’t realise that the man who killed him had drowned in the lake. But unlike poor Madison …”

“When did he get the name Madison?”

“Just now. I just thought of it,” Gwen said with a touch of impatience. “Anyway, back to poor Madison who died a truly gruesome death when he was impaled by a raging unicorn …”  
“And I still say unicorns are symbols of purity and goodness. They do not go round rampaging and killing innocent Madisons.”

Gwen stopped walking. “You have no imagination.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “And you’re morbid.”

She laughed, the corner of her eyes crinkling and she placed a hand on his arm. “I’m not sure if that is a compliment, but you’re not the first one to say this.”

“No wonder Merlin loves your book.”

“Oh, you won’t find any of that in my books. My books are all very becoming.” She widened her eyes and pursed her lips together, attempting, Arthur suspected, to present an innocent facade. But he knew better now and simply clucked his tongue at her, which made her dissolve into more laughter.

“I’m sure. Come, let’s grab a trolley. We’re going to be stuck in the cottage for a while so we might as well stock up.”

He pushed the trolley and Gwen walked beside him. “This is the best way to get to know someone - grocery shopping.”

He lifted an eyebrow at her, then shook his head. “I’m glad one of us is enjoying today.”

Her smile widened, then slipping her arm through his, she tugged him over to the fruits section where Arthur learned that Gwen enjoyed berries. They squabbled over which pasta was best, and ended up buying both. Arthur put in a box of oatmeal for breakfast which Gwen scowled at, then she dumped in too much bacon and eggs. She supplemented it with bags of chips and a chocolate spread.

“You’ll die young with eating habits like that.”

“You’re such a doctor.”

She was possibly the only one who managed to make being a doctor sound bad.

After loading the groceries into the car, they walked to the small pub for an early lunch. It was definitely small, with seating for perhaps six or seven families, at most. But what caught Arthur’s eye were the paintings that hung along the walls. They were small ones, but they were done with careful skill and passion. As Gwen walked ahead to get their seats, he lingered over the paintings, examining the strokes and the colours. Whoever had done these paintings was a pretty good artist.

He took one last look at the paintings, then turned to see Gwen chatting to the waitress. Her sunglasses were perched on her head and she was smiling and laughing. A not-unfamiliar feeling tugged at his heart.

 

* * *

 

Heather had just had a heated argument with Nani, then walked off, only to catch Selina in a tender moment with one of other riders. It made Heather feel weird. Thus far, all her interactions with Selina had been abrasive and she had liked it that way. It made her keep her distance.

It was probably an aberration. Perhaps Selina had drank too much mead and it was making her mellow.

Gwen tossed her pen onto the bed, then flopped down next to it. Even villains had their soft side, but it didn’t mean they stopped being villains. She had thought that Arthur and her had spent a nice morning out in town and she thought that their relationship was warming up, despite Arthur’s reluctance to engage in conversation. Then, they had returned to the cottage and for a while, they, in between bumping into each other, laughed and teased as they put away the groceries.

He had just reached over her to put away one of the million boxes of oatmeal he’d bought and she’d turned to grab a bar of chocolate.

“Sorry,” she murmured as she stepped onto his foot.

In reply, he said her name, low and soft, the single syllable rumbling from his chest. But before Gwen could decide if she wanted to take the plunge and kiss him the way she’d been thinking of, he’d stepped away, running one hand through his hair.

“No.”

“No what?” She pressed herself against the counter and crossed her arms.

“Nothing,” he muttered. “I’ve have stuff to do. Wasted most of the morning in town.”

They were just words that Arthur flippantly tossed at her, just before he walked out of the kitchen, and he probably didn’t mean anything, but Gwen felt strangely hurt. She put away what was left of the groceries, then retreated into her room and took out her notebook.

And now, after writing a scene of Selina being tender, she was lying down on her bed staring up at the very ordinary ceiling, her mind a whirl of thoughts, all focused on the man who was sharing a cottage with her. He kept blowing hot and cold with her and it was getting on her nerves. One moment he was friendly and teasing, then suddenly, he would become cold and curt. The physical attraction between them was not one-sided, Gwen was pretty sure of that. So many times she had caught him staring at her, his eyes dark with appreciation and she certainly hadn’t imagined their almost kisses.

Gwen sat up. Arthur might have the emotional maturity of a baby, but she didn’t and she would do something about this.

“What do you want?”

Gwen knocked on the door again. “We need to talk.”

“No, we don’t. We talked lots earlier.”

“Don’t you want to hear the ending of the Madison story?”

The door swung open and Gwen found herself face-to-face with Arthur. Which was exactly what she wanted.

“I imagine they all died painfully in the end, having been impaled by a unicorn,” he said. “Or maybe a whole horde of murderous unicorns who are an utter disgrace to their species.”

She couldn’t help but smile at that. “Well, it’s a little more complicated than that -”

“Gwen. What do you want?”

It was the first time she’d seen his bedroom, and curiosity prompted her to crane her neck and peer inside. There was a lot of brown and white and Gwen thought she saw an easel before Arthur nudged her away and shut the door.

“Have you come to spy on me?”

She glanced down at his hands, but they were spotless. They were also very nice - strong and big. They would probably feel quite nice on her body. She wondered if his hands would be smooth or rough. Both would be good.

Arthur cleared his throat. “Gwen?”

“We need to talk.”

“About?”

“Us.”

Arthur continued to look at her, his face expressionless, and said nothing.

“This thing between us.”

“Thing?”

“I know that I basically am an unwanted visitor to your home …”

“Uh huh.” He rocked backwards on his heels and narrowed his eyes slightly. “I told you that you could stay.”

Gwen had the sudden thought that perhaps all those almost kisses and his hooded, desirous looks at her were simply her imagination. She certainly had quite the imagination, her father often said. And now, Arthur looked far from lusting over her.

“Yes, and I’m really thankful.” She shoved her hands into the back pockets of her shorts, and chewed on her bottom lip. Maybe starting this conversation was a bad idea. Maybe, in her attraction to Arthur, she’d conjured up the whole thing in her mind.

But then, Arthur’s eyes dropped to her lips, and that familiar look of restrained desire flared in his eyes. He took one step closer to her. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and rough. “And the thing you wanted to talk about?”

Their eyes locked, and Gwen found herself unable to look away. Lifting up her hand, she placed it against his cheek, feeling the slightly roughness of his five-o'clock shadow under her palm. They were so close that she thought she could feel the warmth from his body. “This,” she murmured.

The moment hung there, only harsh breaths from one, or both, of them keeping time.

His hand covered hers, his fingers sliding between hers. Warm, slightly calloused. Then, like every other time, he slowly removed her hand from his face.

But this time, he didn’t let go, his fingers still entwined with hers. “We can’t do this.”

“Why not? We’re adults. Adults who are clearly attracted to each other.” She pulled her hand away, anger and irritation replacing the desire that had been bubbling in her. “And you keep doing this. Being nice to me, getting close, then pushing me away.”

“Because this is a bad idea. Maybe we should keep our distance from each other.” True to his words, Arthur moved away and his gaze dropped to somewhere beyond her shoulder. “Since we can’t be in the same room without wanting to jump on each other.”

“What harm will it do?” Gwen wasn’t even sure why she was pushing the matter.

Arthur met her eyes. Instead of desire or even annoyance, Gwen saw something sadder. “Someone will get hurt. And I don’t need this complication in my life.”

“We share a place. It will be awkward.”

A reluctant smile pulled at his lips. “Believe me, I know.”

“I like you.”

The smile widened slightly. “I like you too, macabre ideas and all.”

“Ok, so maybe acting on our attraction is a bad idea, for whatever reason you’re hiding. But we can be friends, right?”

“What does that mean?”

“That means you stop suddenly cutting me off and being cold to me. Especially after we spent such a nice morning together.”

“Ok.”

Gwen stuck out her hand.

Arthur hesitated for a moment then enveloped her hand with his, giving it a firm shake. “Friends of some sort.”

She smiled. “Friends, without benefits.”

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “Now what?”

“I’m actually going to take a break from writing. So perhaps I’ll go for a walk, to that lake.”

“You don’t know where it is.”

She grinned at him. “But you do. I don’t suppose you’re busy? Or you could give me directions.”

He let out a sigh, but he was smiling. “I don’t particularly want to hear that fantasy writer, Guinevere has been killed by rampaging unicorns, so I’ll go with you.”

“Great!”

“But before that, we should pop into town and get you proper shoes.”


	5. Chapter 5

“And so when Jess reached maturity, she realised that she didn’t want to be like all the other unicorns …”

Arthur turned his head and watched as Gwen continued with her now very convoluted story of the unicorns and the man who lived in the old, abandoned hut at the lake.

“Don’t you find it disconcerting that we’re lying on the grass, a hundred meters from this haunted hut and you’re telling gruesome unicorn stories about it?”

“No. It adds to the atmosphere.” She shifted slightly and Arthur could feel her eyes on him. “Unless you are feeling uncomfortable.”

“I’m fine. Now tell me why Jess the unicorn was not happy living in the land of butterflies and rainbows.”

“It’s not the butterflies and the rainbows that Jess doesn’t like. She doesn’t like that the Great Unicorn is always telling them what to do and how she should live her life. Maybe she doesn’t want to go round looking for virgins. Maybe …”

“Maybe she doesn’t want to be the next Great Unicorn.”

The pause was slight, but Arthur knew that he’d piqued her curiosity. He focused on the clouds floating above them, not wanting to think too hard about why he’d said that. Over the past five days, they had managed to ignore the physical pull they felt and established something like a friendship. They still spent most of their day apart, Gwen in her room working on her novel, while he stayed in his. But neither of them could realistically spend all that time in their rooms, and so they had taken hikes around the surrounding countryside, poked around in the town and honed both their admittedly limited cooking skills together. And for a man who hated being on leave from work, Arthur was finding it surprisingly fun.

“It’s not that Jess doesn’t want to be the next Great Unicorn. It’s that no one asked her, you know?”

“That’s rude,” said Arthur.

“Exactly.” Gwen was lying on the grass again, looking up at the clear blue sky. “It was rude and Jess decided that she wanted to try other things.”

“Still, that doesn’t quite justify going on a murderous rampage.”

“She didn’t.”

“That’s not what you said yesterday, and the day before!”

Next to him, Arthur could hear Gwen huff, and he tried not to smile. Suddenly, her face was hovering over his, her loose curls tickling his nose.

“I’m the author so I can make whatever changes I want.”

Arthur shifted so her hair was no longer sweeping over his face. “Of course. So if Jess wasn’t part of the rampaging unicorns that killed poor old man in the hut, who was?”

Her grin always did strange things to his heart, and this one that she flashed him no different. “Well then, it’s for me to know and for you to find out.”

“I can bear the suspense for one more day. We came here to swim, so how about it?” He pushed himself up and pulled off his shirt, pleased when he noticed Gwen’s appreciative look. As he shucked his shorts, he winked at her. “Coming?”

A blush rushed to her cheeks, making her even prettier than she usually was. “Only if you promise no tricks.”

Raising his arms, he shook his head. “Never.”

Her dress was off now and she stood in front of him in that tiny purple bikini that he had been introduced to two days ago. Her hands on her hips - she could not know how deliciously sexy she looked - she frowned at him. “I’ve learnt that you are a liar, Arthur Penn.”

He needed to stop staring at her. “Last one in cooks dinner.”

Her laughter followed him as he dashed to the lake and jumped in. The water was cold and it was enough to quickly douse the stirrings of desire that resulted from seeing Gwen in her bikini. Surfacing, he glanced around. He couldn’t see Gwen, in the water or on land. Then, before he could decide what to do, something yanked his legs and dragged him underwater.

This time, when Arthur surfaced again, coughing and spluttering, he spotted Gwen laughing so hard that she was having a hard time treading water.

“Oh, you’ll pay for that, Guinevere.”

She tried, but she was not as quick as Arthur in water and he easily overtook her, grabbing her by the waist, and hauling her to him, so that her slick, wet skin was plastered against him.

Bad idea, because despite the cold water, the feel of her against him immediately sent lust rushing through him.

“Arthur.”

At least he wasn’t the only one. Her eyes were half-lidded and her hands, winded around his neck, were playing with his wet hair. Under his hand, he could feel the edge of her bikini bottom. Just moving his fingers slightly would allow them to slip under the wet fabric. He pressed his growing erection into her and she groaned.

“Don’t,” she muttered. “Don’t start something if you won’t follow through.”

He closed his eyes as he tried to remember all the reasons this was a terrible idea. As his brain attempted to work, Arthur felt a brush of lips against his cheek. Then, Gwen was pulling out of his embrace.

“I’m going to swim around the lake a few times to cool down,” she said before kicking off.

Arthur watched her swim for a moment, before diving under. He couldn’t remember a single reason he was behaving like this.

By the time they both left the lake, some form of equilibrium had been restored, at least on Gwen’s side and she was discussing the contents of their fridge and what they could do for dinner. He half-listened to her chatter as they packed up and walked back to the car.

“I’m sorry.”

“That you don’t have any ideas what to do with a head of lettuce and chicken breast?” Gwen slid into the seat beside him and did that little wiggle again.

Arthur started the car and stared straight ahead. “For just now.”

“Ah, it’s fine. I mean, I would prefer it if we acted on it but we agreed. Plus it’s a little inconvenience worth bearing to have you as a friend.”

He turned to look at her. She was smiling. There were no words to describe the mess of feelings in his chest, so he simply smiled back.

 

* * *

 

Arthur was, according to him, a mystery reader. None of those wizards and dragons and magic in his books, thank you very much. So when she had been straightening out the living room, she was a little surprised to see a copy of her fantasy novel tucked into the side of the sofa. When, after asking Arthur about it, he’d finally, reluctantly admitted that he’d saw it in the local bookshop and bought it, Gwen might have fallen a little in love with him.

Both completely unimaginative in the kitchen, they ended up having chicken sandwiches for dinner.

“Will you show me your artwork?” It took a few days of needling before Arthur finally confessed that what he did in his room was paint. But after that, he’d been rather closed off about the whole subject, which frankly, wasn’t that surprising. There were so many things that Gwen didn’t know about him. Why he was on extended leave, why he didn’t want to explore their physical attraction and now, why he painted.

Arthur looked up from the magazine he was reading, a half eaten sandwich in his hand. “Why?”

“Well, you’ve seen my creative endeavours. So it seems fair that I see yours.”

“You sell your creative endeavours for profit. I think the situation is slightly different.”

He had a point so Gwen slumped into her seat and stuffed the rest of her sandwich into her mouth.

“How is the sequel coming along anyway? Has your week here been productive?”

Gwen beamed. “Yes. Very much so.”

In these five days alone, she’d plotted out and written much more than she had when back home. Partly, it was because of the peace and quiet this place offered her. Aside from her twice daily calls to her father and brother, she didn’t have to worry too much about them. But most importantly, Arthur, for some reason, inspired her. She’d taken bits and pieces of him and woven it into her villain - the secrets, the surprising hobby and the strong physical attraction she had for him. Heather was her, knowing that villains were a bad idea, the same way men with too many secrets were bad ideas, but unable to stay away from Selina. Whatever sexual frustration Arthur saddled her with, she channelled into her writing.

“Good. Your biggest fan is coming over tomorrow. He’s going to try and get some spoilers out of you.”

“Merlin? That’s great. Dinner or lunch?”

“Lunch, before he goes back to work. I thought we could eat in town.”

Gwen nodded. “So did you two meet in medical school?”

“Yeah. We were did our residency together.” Arthur closed the magazine. “You make some really good friends when you are all under that sort of pressure.”

“I imagine enemies too,” said Gwen.

“True. Have you finished?”

“Yeah.” Gwen passed Arthur her plate and he took them to the sink. Gwen, keen to learn more about him, followed behind. “Why accident and emergency medicine? It seems like the most high pressure specialty.”

His back to her, Arthur shrugged. “I enjoy the intensity. And it’s fulfilling in its own way.”

Leaning against the island, Gwen idly drew patterns on the top. “Seems to me that with your father as the director of the hospital that you could choose any specialty you wanted. Something with more prestige? Less work?”

When Arthur didn’t reply, she looked up at him.

“Arthur?”

“My father has no bearing on what specialisation I choose.” The words were curt and Gwen knew immediately that she’d touched a nerve. He turned off the tap, then turned to face her. “Do you also think that A&E medicine is too plebian?”

“Also?” Gwen wondered who else had opposed Arthur’s choice. “I think that accident and emergency medicine is as good a specialty as any.”

Arthur stared at her, then he blinked and rubbed the back of his neck. “I enjoy working in the ER. Besides, changing specialty would mean another round of residency and I am no longer young enough to suffer through that.”

“You’re not that old.”

That made him smile slightly. “I’m happy with what I am doing, odd hours and long shifts and all. I don’t need prestige or a big office or anything else.”

“I didn’t mean -”

“I know,” said Arthur on a sigh. “As you can probably guess, my father is less than happy that I’m in accident and emergency medicine.”

The expression on Arthur’s face, a mix of hurt and disappointment, made Gwen step towards him and place a hand on his arm. His muscles flexed under her touch but he didn’t pull away.

“You’re a grown up so I think that you can make your own decisions on what you want in life.”

“He said I was a disappointment.” Arthur’s tone was flat and it was as if he hadn’t heard what Gwen had said. “Bringing my family’s name down.”

“Morgana is a neurosurgeon,” said Gwen as understanding dawned on her.

“A neurosurgeon and a socialite and now mother and wife. I don’t know how she does it.”

“She’s always been very capable.”

Arthur moved so that the hand she had on his arm was now being held in his larger hand. His thumb rubbed the back of her hand and that little touch sent sparks of desire tripping through her. “She is capable.”

Then he threaded his fingers through hers and she shivered. “I shouldn’t have unloaded on you.”

“No. I like getting to know you.”

A smile spread across his face. “Is that why you want to see my paintings?”

“Yes.” Then she giggled. “That sounds dirty.”

“I think the dirty version is etchings, not paintings.” But Arthur was laughing and the serious, solemn mood that had descended earlier disappeared. “Come on. How about we play a game of cards before bed?”

Back in her room, after being thoroughly trounced by Arthur in cards, Gwen pulled out her notebook and wrote down: Selina - mother issues, a disappointment.

 

* * *

 

Arthur’s strong, large hands were holding her thighs apart as he licked and suckled at her center. His tongue teased and toyed with her, bringing her just to the edge, when her fingers dug into his hair and her hips bucked.

His teeth grazed her clit and she shuddered. She wanted more, needed more and if Arthur wasn’t going to bring her to orgasm, then she would take matters into her own hands. Reaching down, she let her fingers sink into her.

Where did Arthur go?

Gwen opened her eyes, and it took a while before her sleepy brain registered that it had all been a dream and she was all alone in her bed in the cottage. That her brain knew that didn’t seem to matter to her body which was still burning up with need. Softly, Gwen cursed Arthur for doing this to her, then brought her fingers back down between her legs.

 

* * *

 

The pub was relatively busy, since it was a Saturday, and Gwen and Merlin were engaged in a deep conversation about some recent fantasy series that was showing on television. Arthur wasn’t a fan of fantasy, although he had read slightly more than half of Gwen’s novel and rather enjoyed it. While they chatted, Arthur allowed himself the indulgence of watching Gwen. Her hair was tied up in a pony tail today and she was in a brightly coloured sundress. Her eyes sparkled with joy and her hands moved as she talked about her theory that some character wasn’t truly dead.

She was an open book. Two days into their new friends without benefits deal, she’d told him all about her father and how her brother didn’t cope well with the news at first, which caused lots of problems between them. Her brother taking over primary care of her father for the next month was part of them reconciling.

She didn’t seem to think his medical speciality was not good enough. Although, that might change in the future. Sophia had been encouraging enough in the beginning. Then her tune changed, no thanks to his father.

Which brought Arthur to the fact that Gwen didn’t know his father and wasn’t part of the whole Penn family social network. A huge positive.

And the reason Arthur was sitting in this pub, blatantly staring at Gwen and thinking about this was because he was finding it harder and harder to remember why he had demanded they have this friends without benefits relationship. Every moment he spent in her company, he found himself liking her more and more, from her weird imagination to her perennially optimistic outlook. Then, there was that constant pull that sizzled between them almost all the time.

Sophia might have been a painful experience, but maybe both Merlin and Morgana was right that he had to move on.

Gwen waved a hand in front of his face. “Hey, what are you dreaming about?”

“He’s bored by our conversation,” said Merlin. “He has no imagination.”

Arthur scowled at Merlin. If he knew of how good his imagination was when it came to Gwen in the middle of the night when he was in bed, Merlin wouldn’t say that.

“You’re due at work in 3 hours. Better eat up.”

“Speaking of work,” said Merlin. “When are you coming back to the hustle and bustle of Albion Mercy’s emergency room? I’m surprised you haven’t been chafing at the bit to return.”

“I haven’t had a break in over a year.” He was surprised himself, not that he was going to mention that to Merlin.

“I’m glad. Maybe things are getting better.”

Gwen was silent, but her eyes were alert and Arthur knew her brain was whirling. He caught her eyes and smiled. “Yeah, maybe things are getting better.”

She blushed and the decision was made in Arthur’s mind.


	6. Chapter 6

It was one thing to make up his mind that he wanted to take their friendship further, it was another to work out how to do it. Should he bring it up as a topic for discussion over dinner? Should he just grab her and kiss her?

And so, paralysed by his own indecision, Arthur had taken to hiding in his room and working on this painting the moment Merlin left.

It was a hobby that he had picked up in medical school and Arthur wasn’t foolish enough to think that his works were of any standard. In fact, he suspected that people were more likely to pay him not to paint if they saw his work. Still, although the final pieces were not that great, Arthur enjoyed the process immensely.

He was splashing some red onto his canvas, wondering if it looked too much like blood splatter, when he heard Gwen’s sharp knock on his door. A glance at his watch told him that it was soon dinner time, which meant Gwen going to ask about dinner plans.

“Give me a moment.” He pushed his easel to the corner of the room, washed his hands, then opened the door. Something tickled his throat but he swallowed and it disappeared. “Is it dinner time already?”

“Yup, and the choices are frozen pepperoni pizza or frozen hawaiian pizza. Take your pick.” She leaned casually against his doorframe, her hair pulled up into a messy bun.

He shrugged. “Whatever you want.”

“Oh I couldn’t decide which is why I’m asking you.” She flashed a smile at him, and Arthur couldn’t help but return it.

“How about we take a drive to the town and eat something there?” There may not be many options in town but there was a nice, small Italian restaurant and perhaps, after that, perhaps he would talk to her about changing their relationship. And then, maybe they would fall into his bed.

He could see the gleam of anticipation in her eyes, but then, just as quickly, it disappeared and she shook her head. “I would love to, but I need to send my editor some pages, and I was hoping to just have a quick bite before going back to work.”

“Right.” Arthur pushed down his disappointment, placed his hands on her shoulders and pushed her gently away from his door. “Let’s just do the pepperoni then. I’ll heat it up since you’re busy.”

The smile she sent him was teasing. “Such a prince.”

He rolled his eyes. Then he sneezed.

“Are you alright?” Her smile faded and she touched his arm.

Arthur swiped his arm across his nose and sniffed. “Probably something in the air. You go do your work. I’ll get you when the pizza is done.”

By the time the oven beeped, Arthur had sneezed four times and his throat felt slightly scratchy. He looked in his larder but unfortunately, there was no honey and no lozenges. It probably wasn’t anything serious and a good rest would have him feeling better soon. It was just as well that he didn’t have any seduction planned for the night.

He let out a sigh and pulled the pizza out of the oven as he tried to ignore the slight tightness in his head.

Gwen devoured her third slice of pizza, then squinted at him. “You’re still eating your first one.”

“And you don’t eat like a lady.” Somehow, between taking the pizza out of the oven and now, Arthur had managed to lose his appetite. The pizza tasted like cardboard and a band was playing drums in his head, putting him in a less than good mood.

With a raised eyebrow, Gwen put her finger into her mouth, looked him directly into his eyes, then slowly withdrew it, her tongue darting out after it.

Despite the pain in his head, heat still rushed through Arthur and he had to shift in his seat to discreetly adjust himself. “That’s unhygienic.”

Her foot made contact with his leg, completely unhelpful in cooling his ardour. “You’re in a mood. Something wrong?”

“I’m just tired.”

This time, it was her hand that touched him, covering his own. “I’ll wash up.”

“You need to work,” he said, trying to make amends for his brusqueness. “And it won’t take me long.”

Her eyes swept over him, and every part of his body heated up. “You don’t look too well.”

“I think that I would know if I’m well or not, seeing I’m the doctor here.” He stuffed the rest of his slice of pizza into his mouth and hopped off the bar stool. Gwen’s eyes were still on him - he could feel them burning into his back. Ignoring her, he quickly washed up his plate. When he turned back to Gwen, she was still eating.

“I think I can manage an extra 10 minutes to wash up,” she said. This time, any amusement in her eyes had died, replaced by concern.

Arthur grunted, annoyed that his throat felt slightly sore. “I’m not sick.”

“Of course not,” said Gwen soothingly, as if she was speaking to a five-year old instead of an experienced emergency doctor who knew that he was definitely not falling sick. “I’m going to make a coffee for myself later. Shall I make you something hot to drink?”

His first instinct was to decline. He wanted Gwen to see him as a someone she would consider sleeping with, not a patient to fuss over.

Clearly, she could read his mind. “It’s not that much trouble.”

“Some warm water would be good. And you’re right. I’m going to get some rest.”

“I’ll bring it to your room later.”

Arthur looked at Gwen, sitting on the bar stool, her bare legs swinging, strands of hair framing her face, having escaped from her bun. “Thank you.”

She waved a hand in acknowledgement as she took a bite out of her fourth slice of pizza.

Much as he liked being with Gwen, retreating back to his room, drawing all the curtains to block out the setting sun and lying on his bed made Arthur feel a lot better. He still needed to clean up after his painting, but a short nap would help. He pulled off his t-shirt. It was so hot in his room.

It was just a bit of a headache. He wasn’t getting sick.

 

* * *

 

Gwen liked lights. Alone, in her apartment, she tended to switch on all the lights, so her first instinct when she opened the door to Arthur’s room was to turn the light on. But he’d retreated to the room, clearly feeling unwell, and that thought alone was enough to make her hand hesitate at the light switch. She stood in the entrance, light from the living room spilling into his room, until her eyes adjusted to the dimness. Then, she made her way further in.

Arthur was a lump on the bed, the blanket pulled over his body. As quietly as possible, Gwen walked over to the bed and placed the mug of warm water on his bedside table. He stirred at that moment, grunting, then turning over, causing Gwen to freeze. She didn’t want him to catch her looming over his bed, like a crazed stalker, even if she had a perfectly good reason to be there, but he merely let out a breath, then settled back into slumber, tucking his blanket tightly around him.

In sleep, Arthur looked relaxed, not dissimilar to the way he’d been looking the past few days. It was so tempting to reach down and push the hair from his forehead, to see if his hair felt as soft as it looked. It was so tempting to push the blanket down a little, to see if he was sleeping in the buff. But all Gwen did was linger a little, before walking away.

It was then that she noticed the easel in the corner of his room. Curiosity gripped her and she took a few steps towards it. Paint brushes stood in a cup of water next to a palette. Just a few more steps closer and she could probably get a glimpse of the art work that he kept so secret.

She took one more step.

Then, she closed her eyes, gave herself a mental shake and made a sharp turn. Opening her eyes, she walked out of Arthur’s room, closing the door quietly behind her.

Without fail, Arthur would go for a jog in the morning and return to the cottage all sweaty and sexy, just as Gwen was in the kitchen having her morning coffee, although that was less a matter of coincidence, than a matter of strategic planning on Gwen’s part. So, the fact that Gwen had finished her coffee about five minutes ago and there was still no sign of a panting, sweaty Arthur worried her.

Arthur was a grown man, she told herself firmly as she rinsed her mug. And a doctor. Surely if he was still feeling unwell, he wouldn’t have gone for his jog.

Maybe he hadn’t gone for his jog.

Gwen pressed her ear against Arthur’s door, but she could hear nothing. She opened it slightly but the darkness made it difficult to see. A little wider, and Gwen could see that Arthur was still huddled in bed, under his blanket. Slowly, she padded to the bed.

“Arthur,” she whispered. “Are you ok?”

He didn’t move.

She reached out her hand and touched his forehead. It was burning and she started to worry. Should she just let him sleep it off? Or wake him up? Perhaps she should put a wet towel on his forehead, like she had seen on television. The mug she had placed on his side table the night before was untouched and so were the paint brushes and palette. Arthur groaned, then moved, the blanket twisting around his hips and revealing his bare chest and then lower.

Her eyes, despite her brain’s frantic instructions not to look, drifted lower, following the trail of hair that dipped below the blankets.

“Gwen?”

She jerked backwards, bumping into the side table and the water splashed out of the mug. Heat rushed into her cheeks. “Sorry, sorry!”

And yet, Gwen couldn’t help but stare when the blanket moved even lower as Arthur pushed himself to a sitting position.

“Ugh, what time is it?” Arthur stretched and the blanket moved lower, revealing a band of black cloth.

Unable to bear it, Gwen bent down and yanked the blanket up, gaining herself a strange look from Arthur, especially when her hand brushed against something hard. He murmured something that sounded like an apology and held the blanket to his chest.

“I think you have a fever,” she said, unable to meet his eyes.

He frowned. “Really?”

“I think so. Look, I’ll leave you to get ready. Let me know if you need anything.”

“Yeah,” said Arthur, sounding slightly hoarse and distracted.

“Ok.” With one last look at Arthur, all sleepy and rumpled, Gwen walked out of the room.

Still worried about Arthur, Gwen stayed in the living room instead of returning to her own. Her notebook in her lap and a pen in her hand, she tried to focus on her novel as she waited for Arthur to emerge from his room. It took a while, but eventually, she heard the door open. Putting down her notebook, Gwen peered over the back of the sofa and saw Arthur shuffle out of the room.

“Hey.”

He looked at her and smiled slightly. “Hey.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” said Arthur, even as he started coughing after speaking.

“You look rather pale. Maybe you should stay in bed?”

He cleared his throat. “I’m fine. Just need a coffee to wake me up.”

“Let me make you a fresh cup.” Gwen got off the sofa.

“I’m fine,” he snapped. “I think I can handle making a cup of coffee.”

“Ok,” said Gwen, but she continued to watch Arthur. His movements were slow and the pinched look in his face made her think that he was still having a headache.

As Arthur waited for the water to boil, he leaned against the refrigerator and closed his eyes. Unable to help herself, she went over to the kitchen. The kettle clicked off and she poured the water out and made the coffee. Arthur opened his eyes and watched her but didn’t do anything to stop her. When she passed the coffee to him, he grunted his thanks.

He started coughing immediately after his first sip.

Gwen took the mug from him, placed it on the counter then rubbed his back. “Come on, you should be in bed.”

“I’m fine. It was just me choking.” He punctuated his words with more coughing.

“Arthur.” Slipping one arm around his waist, Gwen pulled him towards his bedroom. Despite his insistence that he was fine, he allowed her to steer him back to his room. Gwen nudged him and Arthur obediently sat down on the bed. She touched his forehead and it was still warm. His eyes fluttered close, then he started coughing again.

“What should I do?” Gwen asked as she tucked the blanket over him. “Is there something you can take? Should I go into town and get something? A towel on your head?”

He pushed her hands away. “I’m fine.”

Gwen scowled down at him. “You don’t look fine at all. Look, you’re sweating and it’s not even warm.”

“I just need to sleep a bit.” Perhaps he was trying to frown at her, but it turned out more of a pout and Gwen had the irrational notion to pat his head.

Arthur slept for most of the morning and some of the afternoon. In the meantime, Gwen dithered between making her way into town to pick up medicine and food for Arthur and staying in the house to keep an eye on him. Several times, she'd taken her car keys and walked to the door, then Arthur would cough and she'd change his mind.

“He’ll be fine. He’s a big boy,” said Morgana. In the background, Gwen could hear Gertrude babbling. “Lots of liquids, maybe some painkillers. He has a fever? Then it’s probably a flu.”

“So I don’t have to worry?”

“You do seem pretty worried. Has my brother charmed your pants off? I mean, I don’t see it, but he’s quite popular with the ladies. I remember the other doctors in -”

“No one has their pants off,” huffed Gwen. “Anyway, your brother has been nice enough to let me stay so ensuring he’s alright is the least I can do.”

“Just as well. Arthur is still brooding over his last relationship and the last thing you need is to be someone’s rebound girlfriend. So, how is the sequel coming along? Did Merlin manage to persuade you to add him into the book?”

Gwen allowed Morgana to dictate the conversation although she refused to be dragged into revealing anything about her sequel. When a screaming Gerty forced them to end their phone call, Gwen pulled out her notebook. A scene in which a reluctant Heather was forced to nurse Selina back to health after an incident with the dragons was just begging to be written.

Assured by Morgana’s words, Gwen made a quick trip into town and, not trusting her ability to cook soup, bought the whole shelf of canned soup. She also picked up some painkillers from the pharmacy and a thermometer. She was putting away the soup in the kitchen when she heard Arthur’s door open.

“Hey.”

He looked exhausted, despite having slept most of the day away and he was still frowning. “Did you go somewhere?”

Gwen smiled at him. “Did you miss me?”

“That’s a lot of soup.” He coughed, then rubbed his chest.

“I wasn’t quite sure which flavour you would like. How are you feeling? And don’t tell me you’re fine. You look terrible.”

Arthur opened his mouth, then started coughing again. “I guess I’m sick.”

“Yes so you should stay in bed. I’ll make some soup and you can have it in bed.”

“I’ve spent the whole day in bed,” Arthur whined. “I promise to stay on the sofa and you can still make soup for me.”

“Ok. Wait.”

“What?”

“I want to take your temperature,” said Gwen as she dug into her bag for the thermometer. She tore open the packaging and gave it a rinse. “Open up.”

Much to Gwen’s surprise, Arthur obediently opened his mouth and allowed her to pop the thermometer in.

“Well?”

“You have a fever.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow. “I could have told you that. How high is it?”

“38.5 degrees.”

“That’s not too bad. Looks like I’m not that sick.”

“Yes, you are. Go sit on the sofa. Do you need a blanket? Are you cold? Hot?”

“I’m hardly dying,” said Arthur grumpily. “But a blanket and some water would be good. Also, I like tomato soup.”

Arthur took some time to settle down on the sofa, shifting several times before pulling the blanket around him and switching on the television to some boring gardening show. Gwen knew all this because she kept a surreptitious eye on him as she heated up the soup. He smiled gratefully at her when she gave him the bowl of soup, scooted to one end of the sofa and the two of them sat on the sofa at both ends, drinking their dinner of soup.

Later, when Gwen caught Arthur dozing on the sofa, she hustled him back to his bed. Once again she tucked the blanket around him as his eyes started to close. She touched his forehead.

“You still have a fever.”

“It should break soon,” he muttered. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to get you some water.”

But by the time she returned with the water, Arthur was snoring softly, curled on his side. Indulging herself, Gwen brushed the hair from his forehead, then watched him sleep for a while as his chest rose and fall, sometimes interrupted by his coughs. Morgana might not be able to understand why women were attracted to him, but Gwen was very, almost achingly, aware of why.

 _Rebound girlfriend_. Gwen shook her head. Arthur had made it quite clear that despite whatever desires they felt, he wasn’t interested even in her being a rebound girlfriend.


	7. Chapter 7

Mr Patel spent more time talking about his wife, his children and his grandchildren than he did asking questions about the house. He also immediately assumed that Arthur and Gwen were a couple and his constant chatter made it difficult for Gwen to disabuse him of that notion. Arthur was too busy sniffling and hiding his cough to actually pay attention to the potential buyer.

When Arthur sniffed yet again, Gwen scowled at him. He’d played the obedient patient for one night, during which he’d stayed in bed, occasionally asking for water and painkillers. Then, in the morning, with a red nose and a cough, he declared himself well again and that they were expecting a Mr Patel, a potential buyer, to come over to see the place which then led to him attempting to make the house look presentable. Gwen should really have just ignored his foolish ass but when he started coughing as he scrubbed the coffee table, she cursed her soft heart and spent the rest of the morning helping him straighten the place out.

“I like this place. Very quiet, nice land at the back. Shameetha - she’s just turned 4 - would love the space, and we could get her a dog, only my daughter Lakshmi is allergic to dogs. Maybe hamsters? Would someone allergic to dogs be allergic to hamsters?”

Gwen frowned. “Uh, I am not sure.”

Mr Patel smiled and patted her shoulder. “I like you. You are honest.”

Beside her, Arthur coughed and rubbed his chest.

“Well, I should leave you two alone. Your husband seems unwell,” said Mr Patel. “It’s a nice place but the asking price is a little high. I will have to discuss this with my family.”

“Of course.” Gwen opened the door for him, then stood there with Arthur by her side, waving at Mr Patel until he drove off. She turned and glanced at Arthur’s pale face. “Happy now? You’re still unwell so I don’t know why you won’t stay in bed.”

“I got sick of canned soup.”

“Fine. You can cook lunch then.” She should have flounced off then, but instead she reached out and touched his forehead. “Your fever is gone.”

“Told you I’m fine,” said Arthur, attempting a smirk.

Gwen rolled her eyes and walked into the kitchen. She poured a cup of water and handed it to Arthur without a word.

“Thanks.”

“Now will you rest?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Good idea. How about some nice chicken soup in bed?”

“You just complained about soup.”

“But I’m hungry. And there’s nothing else around. Plus, I’m sick.”

Gwen stared at Arthur. Was he actually pouting? “Doctor Arthur Penn, you claimed you were well just this morning and now you’re sick again and asking me to serve you soup in bed?”

“Please? My chest hurts. It must be all the coughing.” He looked at her, his eyes widening in accompaniment to his pout.

“I don’t believe you. I told you that you should have said no to that guy’s visit.”

“I need to sell this place,” said Arthur. “And it’s not like there’s a queue of buyers at the front door.”

“Are you in debt?”

“What? No? I’ll have you know that I’m financially very stable.”

“Then what is the hurry?”

Arthur stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans and broke eye contact with her. “Because I need to move on.”

“Oh.” It was all Gwen could think to say. She remembered him saying once that he’d hated the place, although in the last week or so, he hadn’t seemed to mind it that much. There was obviously some history here that she was not privy to, although there was no reason for Arthur to tell her anything. They were barely friends, thrown together because of unfortunate timing.

Arthur retreated to his bedroom and Gwen put the soup on the stove to heat up. Morgana’s reference to a relationship gone wrong made Gwen wonder if this house was related to that relationship, hence Arthur’s desire to quickly sell it. She stirred the soup a little and wondered if she’d had a close shave. It was one thing to indulge in some fun between the sheets with a man she found attractive. It was another to indulge in it with a man who was clearly carrying a lot of baggage from another relationship, in the house where all the baggage apparently lay.

Plus, after spending so much time with Arthur, Gwen wasn’t sure if she could be physically intimate with him without getting emotionally entangled. She liked him far too much.

So, it was a good thing that the two of them had established that nothing would happen between them.

As if to taunt her resolve, Arthur sat propped up in bed shirtless, his blanket around his hips. His eyes lit up when he saw her enter and he shifted, allowing the blanket to move even further down. She kept her eyes on his face, noting that while he still looked paler than usual, he no longer looked as tired as he did the night before.

“Soup and some water. Do you need more painkillers?”

“No. Thank you.”

She placed the tray on his side table, but when she turned, Arthur snagged her wrist. Slowly, she turned. “Did you need something else?”

“How about some company?”

“Are you contagious?” His fingers were still wrapped around her wrist, and his thumb was stroking her skin, sending warm tremors through her.

“Probably, but if you were going to catch anything, you’d probably have caught it by now.” He tugged on her arm. “If you’re not busy, sit and tell me more unicorn stories.”

“You’re a terrible doctor. You should care about my well-being.” But she’d sat on the edge of the bed and was smiling.

He smiled back at her. “So where were we? I think Jess was about to elope with her unicorn boyfriend. I have a bad feeling about him though.”

 

* * *

 

“Merlin!” Arthur tucked the phone between his ear and shoulder as he tried to fry an egg. It was supposed to be a sunny side egg but the yolk had broken, so it looked like an egg that couldn’t decide if it wanted to be scrambled or not. “Hang on. I’ve got a message.”

Arthur turned off the flame, then looked at his phone. A message from his father. Great.

“Did you call to tell me my father was summoning me back to work?”

“Yeah,” said Merlin. “Sorry but with Elly quitting and Young’s pregnancy complications, we’re short-handed. But it’s just for the week. Then you can go back to playing house with Gwen.”

“We’re not playing house. She is doing her writing and I’m trying to sell this place.”

“Right. So you can do the morning shift tomorrow?”

“Yeah, fine.” Arthur heard Gwen’s door open. “Look, I have to go. See you tomorrow.”

He turned around to see Gwen in her oversized t-shirt and tiny shorts shuffling to the kitchen. She ran a hand through her hair and squinted at him. “You’re out of bed.”

“I’m feeling much better. And this time, I’m not lying. Sit.” He waved at the breakfast bar. “I figured I owe you breakfast at the least.”

She didn’t sit. Instead she sidled up to him at the stove and touched his forehead. This time, without his illness as a barrier, her touch was what made his skin heat up. “No fever. You’re going to offer me that as reward?”

“It’s not that bad,” said Arthur as he lifted the pan and dumped the contents onto a plate. So maybe it was a little burnt and maybe the yolk was all over the place, but Arthur was sure that it was edible.

“Thank you, I guess.” She took the plate, grabbed a fork then settled at the bar. “Some coffee would be good.”

Once he made the coffee, Arthur sat down next to Gwen. “How is it?”

“Don’t give up your day job.” She pushed the eggs around the plate a little more, then grimaced at Arthur. “The coffee is good though.”

“Thank you,” he said. “For putting up with me the last two days.”

She shrugged. “It wasn’t terrible although you tended to fluctuate between being a bit whiny and insisting that you weren’t sick.”

Somehow, he’d a strand of her hair wrapped around his finger. He rubbed it, enjoying the softness. “Thank you. A plate of eggs probably isn’t enough to thank you, but it was that or more soup.”

Gwen shook her head and laughed, the strand of hair slipping out from his grasp. “No, I think I don’t want to eat more soup for a while. But what will we do about lunch? I think there’s stale bread -”

“We could go to that cozy Italian place I mentioned, before I got sick.”

He tried to say it casually. After all, they had countless meals together, both in the cottage and in town over the past week. But Gwen must have sensed something different in his tone, because she stared at him, her eyes wide and Arthur could see her thinking.

He remembered her offer of casual sex, something to ease the desire that sparked between them. In the time since their first few days of friction, Arthur thought that they had developed some sort of affection, but her hesitation at his invite made him wonder. Perhaps she was simply being nice because she was staying at his place, rent free.

“It’s just lunch, between friends. I figured you seeing me at my lowest means we’re friends for life now.”

Her smile didn’t reach her eyes but she nodded. “Sounds nice. We can pick up something easy to make for dinner. I wanted to try one of those microwave chicken dinners.”

“Uh, about that. I’m going to be going back to Camelot after lunch.”

It was somewhat gratifying to see the disappointment that fluttered across Gwen’s face. “Why? I thought you had at least another two and a half weeks off.”

“The ER is short-handed. But it’s just for a week. I’ll be back in your hair next week.”

Gwen covered his hand with hers. “You’d better.”

“Someone has to protect you from the murderous unicorns that lurk around the lake.”

That made Gwen laugh as she hopped off the seat. “If the Great Unicorn had not interfered in their lives so much, they may not have become murderous.”

“Tell that to my father,” muttered Arthur. “Let me wash up.”

Arthur watched as Gwen picked up her half-finished coffee and went back to her room. Maybe at lunch, he’ll get a better idea if Gwen was still open to something more than friendship with him, because right now, he wasn’t sure anymore.

EatHere had called the restaurant charming. Arthur felt run down was probably more truthful. The paint was peeling at some parts of the walls, the tables were scratched and menus were dog-eared and stained. At least, it looked clean enough and Arthur wasn’t about to look any more closely. None of this, however, seemed to bother Gwen who was reading out the menu to him.

“We could go to the pub,” Arthur said quietly, aware that the owner was hovering near them, unsurprisingly since they were the only customers.

“No,” said Gwen. “Did you see how happy the owner was when we entered? We can’t leave.”

Arthur rubbed at a water stain on the table. “Ok, are you ready to order?”

For a restaurant with no other customers, the food took a while to arrive. As they waited, Arthur urged Gwen to tell him how she became an author.

“You can’t make a full-time living as a fantasy author, you know. So I do some other writing on the side - for magazines and blogs.”

“I remember. That’s how you got to know Morgana.”

Gwen smiled. “Yes. Would you believe that I was afraid of her in the beginning?”

“I’m still afraid of her,” said Arthur with a laugh. “She bullied me through our childhood. Unlike what they say, motherhood has not softened her at all.”

“No. Frankly, I’d be more afraid if Morgana suddenly became the quiet, nurturing sort. It might signal the end of the world.”

“She’s still a good mother, though. Gerty seems happy and healthy. Anyway, we’re getting off topic. You were supposed to tell me what made you decide to become an author.”

And as they waited for their food, Gwen launched into her story. Arthur wasn’t in the least surprised to learn that Gwen had been an A student, even though after her mother’s death, she became her younger brother’s main caretaker as her father worked two jobs. She shared about her teenage days when she escaped the druggery of her life by imagining new worlds. It was only after she started working at Camelot Talks, a tabloid newspaper, that she began to actually write about all these things that she imagined.

“It took a while, but my first book was published and fairly well-received.” She laughed quietly. “I enjoyed the success for a while. Then, my father got sick. Since I had the job with the flexible hours, I did most of the caretaking.”

Arthur took her hand. “It must have been hard on you.”

“It wasn’t easy. Dad was grumpy and angry. Elyan wanted to pretend this wasn’t happening and I became more and more resentful. And, don’t take it personally, but hospitals are awful places.” She turned her hand around, and threaded her fingers through his. “He is currently in remission and feeling better so I thought I’d take a break and try and live a little, for myself.”

“And that meant breaking into my house,” Arthur asked as he ran his thumb across the back of her hand.

“You have to admit that that’s exciting,” said Gwen with a grin. “What about you? Did you become a doctor because of your family?”

Before Arthur could answer, their food finally arrived. Thankfully, the food smelled and looked much better than the restaurant.

“Well?” asked Gwen as she took a mouthful of pasta. “Did you always want to be a doctor?”

“As you can imagine, my father was very keen that I follow his footsteps and it was easier to just do what my father wants.”

Gwen tilted her head to the side. “Are you happy being a doctor now? Morgana speaks highly of you, says you’re one of the best emergency doctors she knows.”

“I enjoy working in emergency so I guess it worked out well.”

“Only your father wanted you to do something else?”

He poked at his steak and looked away from Gwen. “Yeah. And as I mentioned, it’s always easier to do what my father wants, because right now, he’s constantly going on about changing specialties, going behind my back to speak to people about taking me into their specialty, arranging surprise meetings with other doctors. It’s a pain.”

What Arthur didn’t tell her was how his father had paid Sophia to persuade him to change specialty and how, to please her, he had almost done just that. Until he overheard a conversation between Sophia and her friend. A loud argument had ensued, and although Sophia had begged, cried and promised that she would return the money, Arthur had told her to pack and leave the apartment they had shared for 3 years.

Gwen nodded. “Your father does sound like a pain. I’m glad you stuck to your guns. Can’t have been easy.”

They spent the rest of the meal bantering about unicorns and tossing about ridiculous ideas of how to include Merlin into her next book.

“Every suggestion I have given, you’ve shot down.” Arthur held the door open for Gwen, then they stepped out into the fresh air.

“As I said this morning, don’t quit your day job, doctor.” She leaned into his side, and it seemed natural for Arthur to sling an arm across her shoulders. “I will miss having you around.”

Arthur stopped walking. A few people walked past them, but none took any notice. Gently, Arthur urged Gwen closer to the building, away from the road. She watched him curiously, but didn’t pull away.

“I will miss you too. Gwen, you know that conversation we had a long time ago. The one in which we agreed to be friends without benefits?” Arthur wasn’t sure Gwen could hear him above the pounding of his heart.

Her eyes widened, but she nodded.

Slowly, giving her time to move away, he lifted his hand and cupped her cheek. “I was wondering if we could change the terms of our friendship.”

“You want benefits?” Gwen sounded less than keen and whatever confidence Arthur had escaped like air from a deflating balloon. And put that way, whatever he was about to suggest sounded sordid, and sordid wasn’t what he wanted. Arthur wasn’t exactly sure what he wanted.

Arthur swallowed, trying to wet his suddenly dry throat. “Not benefits, really. But I like you and well, I really want to kiss you.”

She chewed on her bottom lip and Arthur was pretty sure she was wondering how to turn him down gently. It was a good thing that he was leaving that afternoon. He could return to Camelot and lick his wounds in private.

Then, she fisted her hand in his shirt, tugged him to her and after all his fantasies, her warm, soft lips were finally pressed against his. Sliding his free arm around her waist, he pulled her closer and deepened the kiss. She tasted like the cheesecake they had shared earlier and the scent of her perfume teased his nose. He dug his hands into her hair, loosening the pony tail and letting her hair spill over his hand. Desire swelled in his trousers and sent heat rushing through his veins.

She giggled, then pulled away, not far enough that Arthur didn’t try to recapture her lips.

“Gwen,” he groaned when she pressed a palm against his chest to stop him. Then, he let his forehead fall forward, resting it against hers.

“We can talk about it when you return next week,” she whispered.

“What was that? A teaser?”

Her smile lit up her face and she stepped away from Arthur. “It’s something for you to remember.”

Quickly, he took her hand, and with their fingers entwined, they walked down the main street together, to the supermarket for Gwen to stock up, then back to the car.

For the first time in a long time, Arthur actually felt happy.


	8. Chapter 8

Arthur scrawled his signature on the forms, recited the instructions once more to the nurse on duty then walked to his locker. He was officially off duty, and it was about time. It had been a long, tiring night shift and Arthur was glad to finally go home. Grabbing his bag, he pulled out his phone and checked it. Two barely decipherable messages from Merlin, a message asking if he wanted to make $350 a day MINIMUM and one from Gwen.

_You were right. Jess's unicorn boyfriend was cheating on her._

He grinned and tapped out a message. _What a jerk._

_With a goat._

_Amazing. Inter-species relationships. A goat has two horns though. Twice the fun?_

_You have a filthy mind, doctor. How was your shift?_

They sent a few more messages to and fro and by the time Arthur put his phone away, he was smiling. A few more days before he got back to his country cottage, and for once he couldn't wait. Over the past few days, he and Gwen had gotten into the habit of texting each other, usually just after his shift and before he collapsed in bed. The conversations weren't anything heavy. He told her stories of the strange things that he encountered in the emergency room and she regaled him with more unicorn stories. Often, he found himself wondering what Gwen was doing back in the cottage. Was she hard at work on her writing? Did she miss him the way he missed her?

"Hey Arthur." Arthur looked up from his phone to see Leon, a fellow doctor, striding towards him. "Heading home?"

"Yeah. Just getting in?"

Leon nodded. "You know, there's going to be an opening in my department next year. I wondered if -"

"Did my father put you up to this?" Arthur rubbed the back of his neck. He'd just worked a long night shift and the stress of that didn't compare to the stress of the upcoming conversation.

"No." But Leon shifted his weight and his eyes skittered to the side.

"Liar." Arthur took out his car key and pressed it, listening for the sound of his car unlocking. "I've had a busy shift and I want to go home to rest."

"Your father means well. You're a good doctor. More importantly, you are a good leader and I could do with someone to help lead the team."

Arthur liked Leon. Sometimes they hung out socially with the other doctors at the local pub, so it was frustrating that even his friends were not immune to his father's machinations. "Leon, I appreciate that you're thinking about me, but I'm happy working in the emergency room."

Leon clapped him on the shoulder. "I thought I'd try. Even without your father's pushing, I would love to have you on my team."

"I'm flattered. Look, it's been a long night -"

"Of course. Drinks tomorrow?"

"Sure."

Arthur made his way to his car. He checked his phone one more time, smiling as he saw another message from Gwen. Quickly, he told her he was headed back to his apartment, tossed the phone onto the passenger seat and started his car. Just three more days and he would be back in the cottage with her. Turning on the radio, Arthur hummed to the latest chart hit as he drove back to his apartment.

_Sweet dreams._

With Gwen's last message in his mind, Arthur closed his eyes and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

The pub was packed, as usual, and Arthur had to push his way past the various patrons before he found his colleagues at a table tucked right at the back. He draped his jacket on the back of his chair, then settled down. Merlin grinned and raised his glass. Clearly, his friends had started drinking early. He ordered a round of drinks, then let himself relax into the usual conversations that ranged from stories of their patients to laughing at Gwaine's ridiculous romantic exploits. The familiar smells, chatter and the alcohol eased the left-over tension from his shift. One of his patients had, despite all his attempts, succumbed to his injuries and while it wasn't the first time he hadn't managed to save someone's life, it still drained Arthur emotionally and tended to make him think too much, so the distraction provided by his friends and the alcohol was much welcomed.

He was just responding to a question from Leon when the table suddenly fell silent. Arthur looked up from the napkin he'd been scribbling on. A distance away, Sophia stood, her arm around the waist of some man he didn't recognise.

"So Arthur. The Albion League has been a bit predictable this season eh?" Gwaine elbowed him, dragging his attention back to the table.

Merlin made a face, then signalled for another round of drinks. "I can't believe that the Camelot Knights are at the middle of the table. And we're supposed to be defending champions."

"Good thing I didn't bet on them," said Arthur as he took another swallow of his beer. Despite his friends' best efforts, Arthur couldn't help darting glances at Sophia and her date. The last time he'd seen her had been at some dinner his father had organised over half a year ago. It had been a blatant attempt by his father to get them together again and Arthur had simply walked out of the dinner. For that, he endured an hour long lecture from his father the next day but Arthur had no intention of rekindling anything with someone who he could no longer trust.

"Hello boys."

Arthur swallowed the rest of his beer and stood. "I'm leaving."

"Arthur." Sophia touched his arm, forcing him to turn to face her.

He wrenched his arm from her, then stuffed his hands in his pocket. "We have nothing to say to each other."

Her eyes dropped to the floor, and Arthur thought he noticed her usual confidence deflate. "I have been trying to get hold of you. Your father said you were on leave."

"Why," he asked.

"Hey Sophia. This is probably not a great time," said Merlin standing as well. "Arthur just got off a shift and you know how exhausting it is."

Her eyes met his again, and Arthur remembered just how pretty her eyes were. They were what made him approach her but now, although her blue eyes hadn't lost any of their attractiveness, Arthur found himself thinking of another pair of brown eyes.

"I wanted to apologise."

"For?"

"Can we do this in private?"

Arthur nodded towards her date. "What about him?"

"He'll wait."

He could feel the whole table of eyes staring at them, despite Merlin's best efforts at restarting the conversation. "Fine."

Without waiting for Sophia, he grabbed his jacket and walked out of the pub. Outside, the air was chilly but not cold and Arthur didn't slip on his jacket. They walked in silence until they reached the corner of the sidewalk, away from where the patrons of the pub were milling.

"What do you want, Sophia?"

"I'm getting married."

"Congratulations," Arthur said stiffly. "Why are you telling me?"

"Because - I - I know that I behaved terribly when we were together." Her eyes bore into his. "And I wanted to apologise."

Running a hand through his hair, Arthur sighed. "You want closure."

"Yes," she said.

"Why did you do it? You keep saying it was for me, but I don't understand how."

Once again, Sophia broke eye contact with Arthur. "Your father convinced me that changing specialty would be good for you. He said that emergency medicine was taking a toll on you - the deaths, the long hours, the stress. That you were too stubborn, too determined to spite him to make a change."

Hurt and anger, feelings he'd long thought he had gotten over, flooded through him but directed at both Sophia and his father. He didn't doubt her words. It was exactly like his father to manipulate her in this way. "And yet you took money from him."

"I wasn't completely blameless," she said quietly. "But I never meant to hurt you. I loved you."

"What do you want? Forgiveness? Fine, I forgive you."

Now her eyes were wet. "I know you don't mean it, but thank you. You were always the better person."

"So who is the lucky man?" Arthur didn't know why he was asking since he couldn't care less, but Sophia looked upset and for everything that had happened between them, he apparently still hated seeing her that way.

A tentative smile crossed her face. "You wouldn't know him. He's an accountant with Fraiser and Lim."

"Are you happy?"

"Yes. Very."

Arthur nodded. "I'm glad for you."

"How are you?"

He thought of Gwen back at the cottage, probably writing in that battered notebook of hers, perhaps eating yet another frozen pizza in front of the television. He thought of her silly unicorn stories and how she'd looked after him. He thought of her tiny shorts and sexy legs and the way she smiled at him.

"I'm good," he said, smiling genuinely for the first time he started this conversation with Sophia. "Very good."

Merlin was waiting at the entrance of the pub. When Arthur saw him, he raised an eyebrow. "Concerned about me?"

Merlin shrugged. "The others have left. Share a cab home?"

"Yeah. Come on."

"Did you persuade Gwen to put me in her book? I could be a helpful mouse. Or a swashbuckling dragon rider."

Arthur bumped Merlin's shoulder. "She barely knows you. Why would she put you in her book?"

"I think we got along splendidly. Maybe I'll text her with some suggestions."

"Yeah, you do that," said Arthur as he hailed a cab.

 

* * *

 

 

With Selina despatched to explore some border incursions, Heather was feeling out of sorts. This led to a confrontation with a suspicious Nani. The conversation was painful, all the more so when Heather refused to come clean about her feelings for Selina, despite proof Nani showed that Selina had ties to the opposing faction.

With a sigh, Gwen put down her pencil. The plot was there, but the words weren't conveying what she wanted.

Apparently having Arthur around, simultaneously frustrating and charming her, was the key to her writing because now that she was alone in the cottage, she found herself unable to write. All she did was fantasize about Arthur and clean the house. And message Arthur, something that she had to tell herself to stop doing so often. The last thing she wanted was for Arthur to think that she had morphed into some crazed stalker person just because they kissed before he left.

She also took walks to the lake but without Arthur by her side, indulging her in her utterly ridiculous unicorn universe, the lake seemed less attractive. Occasionally, she would hover outside his room, curiosity about his painting urging her to walk in and take a look. But she never did. Arthur had his secrets and she didn't feel right prying.

_Will finish shift at 9pm. Should be at the cottage by midnight._

_Shouldn't you rest before driving here?_

_No. Miss you._

Her heart expanded, and she buried her face in one of the cushions and squealed. Immediately after, she felt a little foolish. Riding her good mood, Gwen rewrote the confrontation between Nani and Heather, then added some more details to Selina's back story. Later, curled on the sofa, drinking canned soup for dinner, Gwen let herself think about what Arthur's return would mean. It wasn't as if she hadn't been in relationships before, but something was different with Arthur. For one thing, he took her stories seriously, even the ridiculous ones. And for another, the physical draw she felt to Arthur was so much stronger.

She finished her soup and washed up, glancing at her watch every now and then. Time seemed to pass very slowly and by the time she was ready for bed, it was barely 10pm. She tried to watch some reality show on television but she couldn't quite concentrate. Instead, she pulled out her notebook and started sketching out more of Selina's background. She hadn't expected to create such a sympathetic villain but now, it looked more and more likely that Selina would get a redemption arc. As for the love triangle, Gwen wasn't sure how to resolve it yet. Various possibilities swirled in her mind and her eyelids got heavier and heavier.

 

* * *

 

 

The television was still on but Gwen was fast asleep. Arthur dropped his bag at the door and crossed over to the sofa. She must have been waiting for him, and for that, Arthur was incredibly touched and pleased. Kneeling in front of the sofa, Arthur looked at her, at her eyelashes and the spread of freckles across her cheeks. At her slightly parted lips and the swell of her breasts. He brushed a stray strand of hair from her face, smiling when she murmured and shifted, pressing her face into the back of the sofa.

He took a blanket from his bedroom and went to tuck it around Gwen. She shifted as he did so, but didn't wake, disappointing him a little. As he straightened the blanket over her, his hand hit something. His fingers closed over her battered notebook and he tugged it out from under her, wondering how she managed to sleep on it.

In the midst of removing the notebook, it flipped open and Arthur glanced at Gwen's neat writing all over her page. He was about to close the notebook and put it away when he saw the words _disappointment to mother_. Curious, he read on:

_Forced to become a medic by mother_

_Didn't want to let mother down but did so anyway_

_First meeting - curt and rude_

Why did those words seem so familiar? He scanned the rest of the page that detailed the relationship between the protagonist from the first book, Heather, and some new character. Every note scribbled down was a reflection of his and Gwen's developing relationship and with every word Arthur read, a band tightened a little bit more around his chest.

He dropped the notebook onto the coffee table and stared down at Gwen, her face relaxed, completely unaware of the torrent of emotions that engulfed him. He thought of Sophia and how she'd lied to him for months without him even suspecting. He didn't think that Gwen was lying to the same extent that Sophia had been, but she was using their relationship in her writing and it made him wonder just how much of it was real, and how much of it wasn't.

He couldn't do this again.

With one last look at Gwen, Arthur picked up his bag and walked out of the cottage.

AN: Again, thanks for the lovely reviews. And again, ffnet seems to be not publishing them, but at least I get them in my email!


	9. Chapter 9

She stretched and her arm smacked into something hard, yanking her from the very nice dream she was having of Arthur. With a sigh, Gwen opened her eyes and her fuzzy brain registered that she wasn’t in her bed. No wonder her back ached and her neck felt stiff. A blanket slipped off her as she sat up, making Gwen smile. The only reason there was a blanket draped over her would be that Arthur was back. He should have woken her up, but she figured that Arthur was just being considerate.

Her feet touched the floor and she stood, just as her eyes fell on her notebook. It had fallen open to the page where she’d made notes on Heather and Selina and Gwen frowned. She picked it up and glanced around the living room. No sign of Arthur, not surprisingly. He had just finished a shift at the hospital and Gwen imagined that since he drove all the way here immediately, he must be exhausted. As eager as she was to see him, she wasn’t about to disturbed his much needed rest. Instead, pulling the blanket around her, Gwen shuffled back to her room, her mind conjuring up various ways she could welcome him home.

By the time she walked out of the bathroom, her hair hanging in damp strands around her face, the scent of freshly brewed coffee teased her nostrils. Smiling, she turned to the kitchen to see Arthur leaning against the counter, his eyes focused on the phone in his hand. For a moment, she simply drank in the sight of him, hair that was slightly too long, a v-neck t-shirt with the buttons undone so that Gwen could see the slight dusting of chest hair and arms that she wanted to feel around her.

“Hey.”

He looked up from his phone. “Hey.”

It didn’t escape her that the smile he gave her didn’t quite reach his eyes. Suddenly, Gwen felt quite shy and nervous. For one whole week, she’d looked forward to Arthur’s return and now that he was here, she wasn’t quite sure what to do, especially when he didn’t seem that thrilled to see her. Had he changed his mind about them? Did he return, look at her then realised that he didn’t want to carry on what they’d started?

“You look tired.” Gwen took a tentative step towards the kitchen. “I’m sorry I fell asleep.”

His lips pressed together and he swallowed. “Coffee?”

Something had happened between the time he sent his last message to her and now. He did not look like a man who was missing her at all. In fact, Gwen was getting the impression that Arthur did not even want to be here at all. He turned away and poured two cups of coffee, with much more concentration than such a simple task needed. At least, if he was pouring coffee, it showed that he didn’t want her gone, right?

Arthur pushed a cup towards her and after a moment’s hesitance, she perched on the stool at the breakfast bar and cradled the cup in her hands.

“Thanks.”

His only response was a nod. The breakfast bar between them suddenly seemed like a huge chasm that couldn’t be bridged. He took a sip of his coffee, placed the cup back down on the counter with great care, then looked at her.

“Merlin says I have trust issues.”

Gwen blinked but didn’t say anything, even as her brain raced to figure out what brought this on. For some time, Arthur stared at the counter, his fingers drumming against it.

“I was engaged once, to someone called Sophia. That’s why I bought this house.”

And slowly, bit by bit, Arthur told her all about Sophia - the love they shared, the future they had planned and the collapse of their relationship. In the beginning, the words came out jerky and unnatural and it was soon obvious to Gwen that Arthur had rehearsed this speech. It was clearly painful and by the time Arthur got to the part where he’d told Sophia to pack up and leave his apartment, his fingers were gripping the countertop and his body was tense.

Gwen reached across the bar and covered one of his hands with hers, causing Arthur to look at her.

“I’m sorry.”

He turned his hand over, capturing her hand. “Unsurprisingly, I have trust issues. At least, that is what Merlin says, in between cursing me out for calling him in the middle of the night.”

Slowly, Gwen slid her fingers through his, the tension in her easing when he closed his fingers around hers. His thumb rubbed against the back of her hand as he looked at her, his eyes searching her face - for what, Gwen wasn’t quite sure. Still unaware of what brought about this, Gwen didn’t know what to say. She wanted to tell him that not everyone was like Sophia, that she couldn’t care less about what medical specialty he was in, that she wanted to indulge herself in a fun relationship, not one with so much baggage.

“Your writing,” he said finally, as the silence between them got brittle.

And then she realised. He’d looked through her notebook and seen her notes, notes that were private. Without thinking, she withdrew her hand from his.

“You looked at my notes. Without my permission.” Her words came out calm despite her stomach feeling sick, and she wasn’t sure if it was because Arthur had seen her notes or because Arthur had seen her notes about him.

“By accident.” He turned his back on her and went to the sink.

Gwen watched the muscles in his back flex as he rinsed the cup, then place it carefully on the rack to dry. She tried to gather her thoughts and tried to read Arthur’s mind. Something had triggered his sharing and it had something to do with her writing. Just moments ago, she had been dreaming up fantasies of all the things she and Arthur could do in the week to come, and now she was acutely aware that whatever possible relationship between them hinged on this one conversation, a conversation that she was unprepared for.

Her mind went back over the mess of notes she’d scribbled in her notebook. She guessed that he’d seen the parallels between her characters and them. Was that what triggered all this?

Arthur turned back around. “I wanted to walk away after I saw the notes.”

“Because I used our relationship in them?” Gwen understood being upset that she hadn’t told him, but walking out on her seemed excessive.

He hesitated for a while and once again, he avoided eye contact with her. “Because I suddenly wondered if our relationship was real.”

Gwen stared at him incredulously as the unease in her stomach only got worse. “You think that I am faking my attraction to you so I can write my book? What kind of person do you think I am?”

She hopped off the bar stool, leaving her half drunk coffee on the counter. He called her name, but she refused to look back. Arthur had no business looking through her notebook and how dare he suggest that she had been stringing him along for her book? All the sympathy she had for him, all the affection and all the good memories seemed to disappear and she walked back to her room. She blinked, annoyed that they had barely kissed and his dumb assumptions hurt so much.

Her hand curled around the door handle and she was just about to push the door open when his hand covered hers. She stilled, staring through wet eyes at the door, refusing to turn around until Arthur gently, with his hands on her shoulders, urged her to.

His thumb brushed her cheeks. “Don’t cry, Gwen. Please.”

“I’m not,” she said, using the back of her hand to wipe away her tears. Then because she was pissed and hurt, she smacked his shoulder, then his chest. “You are an ass. I knew you were an ass when I first met you and - and -”

His fingers closed around her hand, stopping her from landing any more blows on him. “You’re right. I am an ass. Morgana was very clear about that.” He cupped her face, lifting it so she was looking at him. “When I saw your notes, I wanted to walk away because I thought you were using me.”

“I heard you the first time,” she muttered. Gwen narrowed her eyes. “So why are you here?”

“Because I might be afraid of trusting myself when it comes to matters of the heart, but I can’t stay away from you. Last night, I walked out and sat in my car but I couldn’t leave.”

Still confused, Gwen shook her head. “What do you want, Arthur? If you think that I am playing with your heart for my book, then why are you here?”

“It’s not you that I don’t trust. It’s me. I had no idea, no clue that Sophia was lying to me for months. And when I saw your notes, my own insecurities came back to me and I panicked and made ridiculous accusations against you.” He dropped his hand from her cheek, loosely wrapping it around her waist instead, then he sighed. “I’m telling you all this, partly because Merlin thinks that it’s a good idea so you will understand why - in his words - I am such a clotpole and partly because I want you to know what you will be getting into if we start anything.”

Gwen raised her eyebrows. “A paranoid clotpole as a boyfriend?”

He smiled wryly. “I don’t truly believe you have been leading me on for your book.”

“Because I wasn’t.” This time, she lifted her hand to touch his cheek.

He turned and his lips brushed against the palm of her hand. “I’m sorry I even thought it.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t mention that I was using us as inspiration,” said Gwen.

“So, do we still have a chance?”

Gwen looked at him and she thought about how she had wanted a fun, easy relationship. She thought about the time they had spent together. She thought about how he made her feel.

Then, she pushed herself up on tiptoes, her hands resting on his shoulders for support, and kissed him.

 

* * *

 

Gwen’s lips were soft and she tasted like coffee. His favourite taste, Arthur decided as he tightened his arm around her waist so that she was pressed against him. He suspected that the bubbles that were fizzing in his stomach were a mix of lust and happiness. He wouldn’t have blamed Gwen if she’d decided that he was not worth it. But he was glad she didn’t. He liked her, liked the way he felt around her and liked when he managed to make her laugh.

“What now?” she breathed, giggling when he nuzzled her neck.

“Honestly? I didn’t get much sleep last night so I really need a nap.”

“Spent the whole night angsting?” Her fingers darted under his shirt, tracing patterns against his stomach sending blood rushing to his groin.

“Gwen,” he groaned as he caught her fingers. “I’m going to be a huge disappointment if we go to bed with me in this state.”

Her laughter made his toes curl with pleasure, then she stepped away. “Then, stop tempting me. Get some sleep. I’m going to do some writing.”

She opened her door and took one step, before he caught her hand again. “Wait. I have one more thing to show you.”

“Oh?”

“Promise not to laugh.” They walked together, hand in hand, to his bedroom. Arthur paused outside his door. “I’m only showing you this because it only seems fair, since I peeked at your notes.”

She laughed when he turned his painting around, but instead of feeling offended or hurt, Arthur laughed with her.

“As I said once, you should keep your day job. It’s a good thing you’re such a great doctor. What is this supposed to be?”

He mocked scowled at her. “My inner most feelings.”

“Ah. It’s very evocative.” She pressed her lips together in an attempt not to smile and all Arthur could think of doing was kissing those lips.

So he did.


	10. Chapter 10

Gwen was at the breakfast counter, her hair falling over her face as she scribbled into her notebook when he got back from his jog. He closed the door, and looked up to see her smiling at him. As always, his heart did a little turn. He covered the distance to her, then pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Feeling inspired?”

“Mmm. Coffee?”

“Sure. Let me take a shower first. Unless -”

She cocked an eyebrow. “Unless?”

But she was already standing, her pen on the counter next to her forgotten notebook. He offered her his hand and she took it without hesitation.

“I have already had my shower,” she said as they walked into his room.

Arthur nudged her in front of him and wrapped his arms around her waist, burying his face into her curls. “You can’t be too clean. Plus I need help scrubbing my back.”

Her laugh was soft and she shook her head, her hair tickling his nose, only resulting in him going from half aroused to completely aroused. Quickly, Arthur swept her into his arms, laughing when she shrieked, then put her arms around his neck.

“You’re all sweaty!”

He bit her ear. “You like me sweaty.”

“You’re lucky I like you at all,” huffed Gwen, but the smile on her face added warmth to her words.

“Very lucky,” said Arthur as he dumped her into the shower. Then, before she could react, he turned the shower on.

She screamed, then laughed all the while clinging on to his shirt, which Arthur liked very much. “Arthur!”

Taking a step back, Arthur looked at her, her hair wet and plastered to her face, the white tank top she wore, now transparent and clinging to her body. He grinned, then reached out to cup one of her breasts, running his thumb over the visible shadow of her nipple, watching as it pebbled under his touch.

“You’re gorgeous,” he murmured.

“You had better kiss me properly now. It’s the least you could do after ruining my clothes.”

Arthur laughed, moving closer to her so that the water pelted down on him as well. “My pleasure.”

The thing about kissing Gwen was that it was a glorious experience every single time, and it was no different this time. She sank into his embrace, her fingers digging into his hair and he covered her mouth with his, feeling the softness of her lips moving against his. How did he get this lucky?

“The problem with wet clothes,” said Gwen as one hand snuck under his t-shirt, “is that they are so hard to take off.”

He suckled the side of her neck, pressing his groin into hers and backing her to the wall. Once she was trapped between him and the wall, he moved his lips lower, kissing her past her shoulder, down until he was able to tongue her nipple through her top.

Gwen groaned as he suckled and nipped, her head falling back against the wall. Her fingers clawed at his shoulders, making Arthur smile. He’d learn quite quickly how much Gwen enjoyed it when he paid attention to her breasts, and Arthur had also learnt quickly that making Gwen happy made him happier, a happiness that was being expressed right now by the uncomfortable erection he was sporting.

Tonguing her nipple one last time, he moved further down. He pressed an open mouth kiss at the junction of her thighs, the whimper that shuddered through her sent a corresponding arrow of lust through him. As he lowered himself to his knees, he attempted to unbutton Gwen’s shorts.

But inattention and wet floors were a bad combination and instead of undoing Gwen’s shorts, Arthur found himself grabbing onto her waistband as he slid most unglamourously into a sprawl on the wet bathroom floor. Gwen, unfortunately, came sprawling down on top of him, their limbs in a tangle. Laughter shook through her body and she buried her face in his neck.

Arthur pushed her wet hair from her face. “Are you hurt?”

“No. I was well-cushioned,” giggled Gwen then she darted her tongue out to lick his throat. She wriggled against him and immediately, his desire returned to full force. “What about you? Anywhere I can kiss to make you feel better?”

“Many places, but I’m in a pretty awkward position right now.”

Gwen laughed again, then together, the two of them eased themselves up. The moment she stood, Gwen pulled off her top, undid her shorts then pushed them down, followed quickly by the lace panties that she wore. “There,” she said. “No more cause for accidents now. Your turn.”

As quickly as he could, he yanked off his t-shirt and pulled off his shorts. He tossed them on the bathroom floor outside the shower, together with Gwen’s clothes, then reached for her, pressing their wet bodies together as he kissed her.

Her hand skimmed his hips, moving until she cupped his cock. Desire lurched through him and he let out a harsh moan.

“Impatient aren’t we?” Arthur murmured, moving his own hands down to her ass. He licked her ear. “Do you know what I want?”

“What?” Her breath was shuddery and her eyes were half-closed.

“I want you against the wall, like this.” Arthur turned Gwen around so that she faced the wall. “Put your arms up. Open your legs.”

She did and Arthur pushed himself against her back, his cock rubbing against the smoothness of her bare skin. She pressed back, whimpering. “Now,” she muttered.

“One moment.” Sliding his hands between the wall and her, he cupped her breasts and with one quick movement, thrust into her. The pleasure of being inside Gwen, of her heat surrounding him was overwhelming and all Arthur could focus on were the sensations - of the water pouring down on them, of the sound of her pants and pleas, of the feel of her wet skin against his.

Gwen whimpered again, her hands grasping futilely at the tiles. “Arthur. Please.”

He moved, slowly at first, then with Gwen’s urging and as his own desire built, he thrust harder and faster. Gwen turned her face, pressing her cheek against the tiles, her eyes shut and her lips parted.

“Touch me.”

His fingers touched the tight bud between the legs, and she shivered, murmuring words he couldn’t make out. But he could definitely understand what she was saying with her body. He dipped his head, pressed his lips against her shoulder. Gwen came first, clenching around him which only hastened his own climax.

Then, once again they slid down to the floor.

“We should have used the tub,” said Gwen some time later.

Arthur was watching some crime show on television involving a straightlace female cop and her quirky sidekick when the message came. He shifted to look at his phone, causing Gwen to move from his lap, but he reached out an arm to pull her back into him.

Then, he read the message.

Gwen twisted herself to look at him. “What is it?”

“Nothing. Just my father’s birthday and the large fundraising event that is being held in conjunction with it.”

“Oh, when is that?”

“A week after I return to work,” said Arthur.

Gwen pushed herself from him. “That’s next week, right?”

“Yup.”

“Oh.” She tucked her feet under, then moved even further from him on the sofa. “Next week.”

“Seeing that I’m not having much luck selling this place, you’re welcome to stay here for as long as you want.” His phone rang just at the moment and he gave Gwen an apologetic look before getting off the sofa.

It was Morgana, clearly having got the same message as him from his father’s personal assistant. They discussed gifts, the details of the fundraiser and Gertrude’s new skills and by the time Arthur hung up, Gwen was no longer on the sofa. She must have had a stroke of inspiration and gone back to her room to write. Her door was closed, which probably meant she didn’t want to be disturbed.

As usual, just thinking of Gwen made him smile and even the thought of returning to work and attending his father’s over-the-top birthday fundraiser couldn’t dampen his mood.

 

* * *

 

She knew that Arthur’s leave was coming to an end. She had even noted it down in her diary but it was so easy not to think about their affair ending when she was enjoying herself so much with Arthur. He was warm and sexy and despite their differences, Gwen found him easy to talk to, when they weren’t busy taking each other’s clothes off. It was silly but the mention of his father, his offer for her to stay at the cottage if she wanted then Morgana’s call upset her. She knew he hadn’t told Morgana they were together and it didn’t seem like he was about to invite her to his father’s birthday celebration. Together, it all sounded as if he was about to move on without her once his leave was over.

With a groan, she punched her pillow. Then she pulled out her notebook and started to write.

Some time later, Arthur knocked on her door and asked if she wanted to go to town for dinner and she agreed. As Arthur shared stories of his patients during the drive to town, Gwen listened quietly, her mind refusing to let go of the thought that their affair was about to end.

Once again, they were alone in the Italian restaurant, and Arthur made a joke about them single-handedly keeping it alive as he pulled out her chair. Then, after they placed their orders, Gwen couldn’t take it any more.

“We need to talk.”

Arthur raised his eyebrows. “About?”

Gwen took a deep breath. “I think we should tell Morgana we’re - you know - together.”

“Really? If you want to. You can tell her though. I don’t need a earful from her about treating you well.” His grin was sudden and he reached over to take her hand. “After all, I’m pretty sure I treat you well.”

“Oh. Right. I’ll mention it the next time I talk to her.” Now she felt a little foolish.

Arthur rubbed his thumb across the back of her hand. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Gwen,” he said, squeezing her hand. “Tell me.”

“It’s silly. I just thought that -” Her cheeks heated up. “Um, I thought that we would be going our separate ways once you went back to work.”

The waiter chose at that moment to serve their food, but Arthur ignored them, his attention focused on her.

“Why would you think that? Because I didn’t tell Morgana about us?”

She shrugged. “Maybe. I was just being silly.”

Arthur chuckled, then stood, leaning across the table to kiss her, warming her heart. “You were. I’m sorry I didn’t tell Morgana.”

“You have got sauce on your shirt,” said Gwen as Arthur sat back down.

“The things I sacrifice for you.”

She kicked his shin. “Eat your food.”

“Gwen. I’m serious about us.”

“I’m serious too,” said Gwen.

“Good. I’m glad we’re on the same page.” He dug a fork into his pasta. “There are five prawns here. How many do you want?”

“I don’t want any.” But she grinned at him because he knew that she was lying blatantly.

With a shake of his head, he picked up three of them and put them onto her plate. “That’s your share. No more picking from mine.”

She stuck her tongue out at him, then dug into her risotto.

After dinner, they took a walk along a small creek that ran near the town. Later, Arthur drove them back to the cottage, then as they entered, he pulled her to him and enveloped her in a hug, resting his head on hers. Gwen inhaled his scent and wrapped her arms around him, enjoying the feel of his heart beating.

“I meant what I said earlier,” said Arthur, his voice rumbling through her. “I want to see where this goes. Us.”

Gwen smiled and kissed his chest. “Me too.”

“What do you want to do now?” he asked releasing her, then dropping a kiss on her forehead.

“Cuddle on the sofa?”

“How about cuddling on my bed? Then you can tell me more stories.”

Gwen laughed and took his hand, making her way to his bedroom. “Are you curious about the fate of Jess and Topher?”

“Mmm. Honestly, I just want to hear your voice.”

“Charmer.” She poked his side and in retaliation, Arthur swung her into his arms, then tossed her onto his bed.

“Now,” he said. “What happened when Jess learnt that the unicorn paradise was in trouble?”


	11. Chapter 11

“You should paint me,” said Gwen.

The two of them had just spent a lazy morning next to the haunted hut, their breakfast picnic stretching into lunch as they splashed around in the lake, then kissed on the grass. She had spun more stories of Jess the unicorn’s adventures while Arthur had laid on his back, looking up at the sky.

Arthur dragged his attention from his canvas and stared at her.

“Surely, I’m inspiring.” Gwen struck a pose on his bed, thrusting her chest out and placing one hand on her hip. She wanted to cock her hip somehow, like she had seen on old pin-ups, but that seemed like it might hurt her back.

Gwen could tell that Arthur was trying not to laugh. “You look like you’re going to hurt yourself, and you’ve seen my skills, or lack of.”

“Would you be more inspired if I was naked?” Gwen asked as she unfastened the button of her shorts.

“I’m painting,” said Arthur with a frown that wasn’t quite enough to hide the amusement that danced in his eyes. “Shouldn’t you be working on your book?”

Gwen rolled onto her stomach, pushing away her notebook. Propping up her face on her hands, she pouted and called his name. “Come on. I’ve always wanted to be immortalised in a painting. And you’re the only artist I know.”

“Just five minutes ago, you said that this was going to be our productive hour. You made me promise not to talk to you, and now you’re rolling around on my bed, taking off your clothes.” His frown deepened, but the corner of his lips tilted up slightly.

“You can still be productive and paint me.” Pushing herself to a sitting position, Gwen tugged off her t-shirt, pleasure rushing through her when Arthur’s eyes darkened with desire. With a quick flick of her hand, she unfastened her bra, letting it drop onto the bed. Her nipples were already stiff with the prospect of having Arthur’s hands on them. “It’ll be fun.”

Arthur’s eyes narrowed, and Gwen was pretty certain that the sound that came from him was a groan. His paint brush still in his hand, he stalked over to her and climbed onto the bed. With a squeal, Gwen shuffled backwards, until her back hit the pillows at the head of the bed. Nowhere else to go, she stayed there as Arthur crawled closer to her.

“You’re supposed to paint me,” she whispered once he reached her. Arthur knelt next to her, but didn’t make any move to touch her. Her next word was a whine. “Arthur.”

Gwen gasped and her whole body shuddered when the paint brush landed on her breast, just above her nipple. The touch was light, but Gwen felt it everywhere. Slowly, with great concentration, Arthur moved his hand and painted a long blue stroke across her sensitive nipple, down the curve of her breast until the paint ran out just below her ribcage, but even then, Arthur continued to drag the brush down her body. The bristles were rough against her skin, leaving a path of goosebumps in its wake. When Arthur ran the brush across her nipples, the heat that had been slowly pooling between her legs erupted into full blown lust. Gwen closed her eyes and simply allowed herself to feel, her hands clutching at Arthur’s sheets.

The brush went lower, tracing the waistband of her shorts.

“You’re supposed to be painting a portrait of me, not me.”

“Mmm,” said Arthur, “I must have been mistaken.”

He dragged the brush along her stomach and Gwen sucked it in, shivering. It was both too much and not enough. Then, Arthur was pulling down the zip of her shorts, opening it and tugging it down. She lifted her hips to help him, but he only succeeded in pulling her shorts down to her thighs. He did the same with her panties.

Gwen waited.

And waited.

Just as she was about to grumble at Arthur’s teasing, the brush landed on her inner thigh. Using it, Arthur drew circles on her thigh and waves of pleasure crashed through her veins. She squirmed, trying to get the brush closer to where she ached. After a few more strokes against her thigh, Arthur finally dragged the brush across her center.

A groan escaped from Gwen and as Arthur continued to dance the brush across her clit, her body tensed and it wasn’t long before she shattered, her hands reaching for Arthur, who dropped the brush and gathered her to him. He kissed her forehead, her nose, her cheek and then her lips, holding her close until she stopped trembling.

“I like the way you paint,” Gwen finally said, curled around Arthur.

Arthur dipped his head and kissed her.

 

* * *

 

It was close to dinner time by the time they left Arthur’s bed. Wearing only his boxers, Arthur wandered to the kitchen and pulled open the refrigerator door. Gwen walked slowly behind him, enjoying the view.

“We should have gone to the supermarket after the trip to the lake,” said Arthur. “There’s only your chocolate left.”

“We still have canned soup. Soup and chocolate sounds like a great meal to me.” Gwen didn’t need Arthur to turn around to know that he was rolling his eyes at her.

“Get dressed. We’ll go down to town. The pub or Italian?”

“Italian sounds good.”

Arthur kissed the top of her head as he walked past her. “Why did I know you would say that? Half an hour.”

“Mmmm.”

Much to Gwen’s surprise, there was a small family in the Italian restaurant. They smiled as she and Arthur entered and Gwen waved back. Dinner was pleasant and after picking up groceries, they took a walk along main street.

“Three more days,” said Arthur, swinging their linked hands. “Then it’s back to work for me. Have you decided if you want to stay here or return to the city?”

“I probably should stay. I still have about a fifth left of my book to write.” She shook her head at him. “You’re a terrible distraction. I was supposed to be focused on my book.”

Arthur bumped her hip with his. “You should have used productive hour better. It’s all about time management.”

“You have to admit that it was fun.”

“It was. Still, it’s probably for the best that I’m going back soon or you’ll never finish your book.”

“Why can’t life be like this all the time?”

With a quick tug, Arthur pulled her closer and slipped his arm around her shoulders. In silence, they walked back to Arthur’s car.

 

* * *

 

After Sophia, Arthur had used work to avoid all the hurt and anger. He could also avoid his father, which was another bonus, so the heavy feeling that had lodged in his heart as he packed up to return to the city was a new one. Usually, he would be eager to return to the hustle and bustle of the Emergency Room and be all ready to plunge directly into it. Now, he wasn’t so sure.

Outside his room, he could hear Gwen singing. She’d decided to make lunch while he packed. He smiled as she hit a high note, musing about just how different they seemed to be. She was so open and honest with her emotions, so positive about life despite everything and if anything like Sophia had happened to her, Arthur suspected that one year down the road, she wouldn’t still be brooding over it like he was.

He tossed in the last of his clothes, looked around his room and felt a pang in his heart. His easel was still in the corner of the room and on it the beginnings of a portrait of Gwen, just like she’d wanted. It didn’t quite look like her but Arthur was pretty proud that it at least looked human. Perhaps after he practised a few hundred more times, he’d have something that he could give to her.

“The omelette is ready,” called Gwen from the kitchen.

Arthur zipped up his suitcase, then picking it up, walked into the kitchen where Gwen waited for him, a spatula in her hand and a smile on her face. Parking his suitcase at the door, he walked back into the kitchen, grabbed Gwen, laughing when she yelped in surprise, and kissed her.

“Stop fooling around.” Gwen shoved him lightly before wriggling out of his embrace. “There isn’t much time before you have to leave. Here, your omelette.”

“You sound like you want to get rid of me.” Arthur knew he sounded whiny but he couldn’t help it. Gwen was all smiley and happy while Arthur was feeling as if a gaping hole had opened up in his chest.

Her eyes softened and she cradled his cheek with one hand. “You silly, silly man. I am going to miss you so much.”

“Me too,” said Arthur, hugging her tightly. “Me too.”

+

Gerty placed a sticky, damp hand on his face. Arthur kissed it then gently removed her hand.

“You and Gwen.” Morgana sat opposite him, curled into the oversized armchair that Gwaine had insisted all homes needed.

“Please don’t give me a lecture on how I need to not hurt her.” Arthur bounced Gerty on his lap, smiling as she gurgled excitedly. “I don’t go into relationships to hurt the other party.”

“Gwen is one of my best friends.”

“I can’t imagine why,” said Arthur. “You’re not exactly the bastion of warmth and friendliness.”

Morgana huffed. “Just tell me that she’s not a rebound.”

“Morgana. It’s been a year since Sophia and I broke up. Sophia is getting married and I don’t think that anyone is asking her if her fiance is a rebound.”

“It was a messy break up,” said Morgana. “Are you going to tell father?”

Arthur made a face at Gerty who laughed, then patted his face again with her sticky hand. “Isn’t your mother a nosey one? Yes, she is. She is nosey, interfering Morgana.”

“I’m taking that as a no. You can’t keep her from father forever. And Gwen isn’t Sophia.”

Gerty reached for her mother and Arthur surrendered the baby to Morgana. He took a piece of tissue and wiped his face, then got up from the floor. “I should be going. Shift starts in a few hours. When do you go back to work?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I have another month of leave and Gwaine has taken leave after that to take care of Gerty, so probably soon.” Hefting Gerty into her arms, Morgana stood as well. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you haven’t answered my question. What about the fundraiser? Father would be too busy schmoozing with all the very important people in the city to pay too much attention to Gwen. It would be an easy introduction.”

“I’ll think about it,” said Arthur. He kissed Morgana, then Gerty. “See you soon.”

“If Gwaine is still in the ER when you start your shift, tell him he needs to get home to see his daughter.”

“I will.”

Gwaine wasn’t at the ER when Arthur arrived but Merlin was.

“Good to have you back.” Merlin slapped Arthur on the back with a grin. “Here. Why don’t you take care of this.”

As usual, the ER was hectic and Arthur barely had time to breathe. He nodded at several colleagues, chit chatted briefly with some of the nurses and by the time he signed the last form and gave his last instructions for the shift, he was exhausted.

“Is it me or was the ER even busier today?” He closed his locker and turned to face Merlin who was sitting on a bench, his head against the wall.

“Probably both,” said Merlin, closing his eyes. “It was a busy night but you’re probably still in holiday mode. How’s my favourite author?”

Thinking of Gwen put a smile on Arthur’s face, exhausted as he was. “Good.”

“Has she decided how she’s going to include me in the book?”

Arthur tossed his towel at Merlin, who opened his eyes and laughed, throwing his own towel back at Arthur. “You should have asked her to come back to the city with you. You’re better with her around and I could work on getting myself in the book.”

“Shut up, Merlin.” Arthur sat down next to Merlin, closed his eyes and leaned against the wall as well.

“Arthur.”

“I told you to shut up.”

“Your father is here.” Merlin stood and picked up his bag. “And I have to get home to water my plants. See you.”

“Traitor,” muttered Arthur. He cracked open his eyes and watched as his father barely acknowledged Merlin before heading towards him. “Dad.”

“Back in Camelot and you didn’t think to contact me?”

Arthur rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s not like you didn’t know I’m back. I was going to visit tomorrow anyway.”

“You look better.” Uther narrowed his eyes. “The vacation did you good.”

Arthur nodded. “It did. Surprisingly.”

“Now that you’re back and Morgana is still far too busy with Gertrude, I want you to attend a dinner on Friday night.”

“Dad.”

“I know you’re not a fan of all these but it’s a benefit for the hospital and you are my son. It won’t kill you and you’ll get to spend some time with the other department heads.”

Arthur sighed and stood up. “I told you -”

“Elena will be there.”

“Oh. I’ve not seen her in a while. Godwyn still heads the oncology department, doesn’t he?” Arthur picked up his bag. “I’ll be over for dinner tomorrow. As for Friday, send me the details and I will be there.”

“Good.” Uther patted him on the shoulder. “See you tomorrow. I’ll tell Sefa to cook your favourite.”

“Wonderful Dad.”

Gwen’s long, rambling text message about Jess the unicorn and her latest adventure was enough to lift his spirits. He tapped on his phone as he walked out of the hospital, smiling when she answered.

_I’ll call you when I get back to my apartment._

_I’ll be waiting._

Five minutes later, as Arthur pulled out of the carpark, his phone blinked.

_Naked._


	12. Chapter 12

Arthur snuck a look at his phone, disappointed that Gwen hadn’t messaged, even though she had said that she wasn’t going to. She needed to work on her book and Arthur completely understood. That still didn’t stop him from missing her especially when he was stuck at this boring benefit dinner.

“Checking up on your patients?”

“Sorry.” Slipping his phone back into his pocket, Arthur smiled at Elena, who was looking at him with great concern.

Her eyes darted to Uther who was in deep conversation with the woman seated next to him. “Do you have to go back to the hospital? I will be perfectly fine here on my own.”

Part of Arthur wanted to grasp at the excuse Elena made - it would be enough for the other guests, although he knew it wouldn’t work with his father. He shook his head. “No. It was nothing urgent.”

“You have been glancing at your phone the whole dinner,” said Elena.

“I was hoping a friend would text me.”

“Merlin? Wait, is it a special friend? Is Merlin the special friend?” Her eyebrows waggled causing Arthur to laugh, drawing attention to them.

“You’re an adult woman. Special friend?”

Elena grinned, then dropped her voice. “If the name fits. Well, have you and Merlin - you know - hooked up? All that UST -”

“UST?”

“Unresolved sexual tension.”

“Between me and Merlin?” How was this the most interesting conversation he’d had the whole night?

“Well, you two bicker all the time.” Elena lifted a hand and counted off her fingers. “You spend a lot of time together. You -”

“I think I should stop you there. I was waiting for Gwen to text me. Gwen, my girlfriend.” He’d thought it many times but he’d never said it out loud - it was strange. Strange and exciting - as if just by saying those two words out loud cemented their relationship.

“I knew it! My father seemed to think that you are still single, hence this.”

“This?”

Elena rolled her eyes. “You’re not a fool, Arthur. What do you think our fathers are trying to do?”

“I was hoping if I pretended they weren’t doing this, then -” His thigh vibrated and his hand immediately went to his pocket. “- then it wouldn’t actually happen. At least there isn’t a dance floor.”

“Go on,” said Elena. “I’m going to tell the waiter to refill my glass. You?”

Arthur nodded as he pulled out his phone.

Guess I’m the first to crack. I’m imagining you in a sexy suit and it’s very distracting. How is the food? My dinner is canned soup and ice cream. Feel sorry for me.

Biting down on a smile, he quickly typed in an answer just as the waiter came by the table.

Elena bumped his shoulder, getting his attention. “You should tell her that I’m happily attached as well, in case she gets the wrong idea.”

Slipping his phone back into his pocket, Arthur frowned at Elena. “Why does your father think you’re single then?”

“He thinks that if he ignores my girlfriend, she won’t exist.” Elena shrugged, then took a long drink from her glass. “Fathers can be jerks.”

“Yeah,” said Arthur. His thigh vibrated again and he found himself smiling once more.

“You can’t hide her forever though.”

 

* * *

 

With the big battle behind them, Heather and Nani were discussing the aftermath but left unsaid was Heather’s obvious infatuation with Selina, the sullen new dragonrider that Nani distrusted despite her efforts during the battle.

Gwen had been dying to write the huge emotional climax for ages but now, all she kept doing was looking at the photos of Arthur and some blonde woman called Elena at the hospital benefit dinner. It wasn’t as if Arthur hadn’t told her about it. Also, in the middle of their little chat during his dinner, Arthur had suddenly mentioned that Elena was very much happily attached.

She reached out and touched her screen, dragging her finger across Arthur’s face. Then, she noticed Uther standing in the background. Blonde Elena was probably Uther’s idea of a perfect wife for Arthur, Gwen thought sullenly. For the first time, Gwen questioned what she was doing with Arthur, son of the influential Uther Penn and brother of the gossip columns’ favourite socialite Morgana Green.

With a shake of her head, she closed her laptop and dragged her attention back to her writing. She only had a few more days before she had to return to the city. Elyan’s leave was ending and she needed to get back to keep an eye on her father. Both he and Elyan insisted that Tom was well enough to look after himself but Gwen didn’t quite trust them. Despite feeling poorly, Tom had refused to see a doctor until Gwen and Elyan practically shoved him into her tiny car and dragged him to the clinic, and even after that, Tom refused to admit when he was in pain and insisted that he was fine. And with Elyan’s flightiness, Gwen was sceptical of their cheerful assurances that she could stay at the cottage and finish her novel.

Focus, she told herself. No sleep until you finish this scene.

She dreamt of dragons and new book covers and coffee. No, the coffee wasn’t a dream. She could smell it. Gwen blinked as she lifted her head from the table, the smell of coffee teasing her nose. Her eyes felt swollen and gritty and although her vision was still blurred, Gwen was pretty sure that was a damp spot on the page she had fallen asleep on.

There was a clatter, loud enough to clear some of the cobwebs from her brain. And for a moment, she froze. There was an intruder. Someone had broken into Arthur’s cottage. She sucked in a deep breath and counted to five, trying to calm her pounding heart. As quietly as possible, Gwen picked up her phone and fumbled to turn the screen on.

Then, she smelled bacon. Whoever had broken into the house was cooking, which didn’t make any sense to Gwen. But surely that meant whoever it was wasn’t dangerous. Phone in her hand, she gingerly pushed open her bedroom door and peered out.

Only the light in the kitchen was switched on and Gwen could make out someone pottering around inside. Gwen grinned as she recognised the silhouette although his presence made no sense. Patting her hair, she padded out of her room and into the kitchen, leaning against the counter and indulging in the sight of Arthur cooking.

“I know you’re there,” said Arthur. “I can feel your eyes on me.”

“It’s a surprising and delightful sight.”

Arthur turned his head. “Hello Gwen. I missed you.”

That was her cue to walk over to him and slide her arms around his waist. “I missed you too. Don’t you have to work?”

“Afternoon shift, so we can have breakfast together before I have to leave.”

“Sounds wonderful. Let me wash up and I’ll be out for breakfast.” Gwen lifted herself up on her toes and pressed a kiss against the back of his neck.

Gwen wasn’t sure if the bacon and eggs were so delicious because someone else had cooked them or because Arthur was eating it with her or because she’d been surviving on coffee and cereal for the past few days. Whatever it was, Gwen was having a very good morning, so good that whatever misgivings she had been feeling the night before had completely disappeared.

“How’s your writing coming along?”

“Alright.” Then she sighed. “I have to go back to the city soon.”

Immediately, Arthur’s eyes brightened. “How soon?”

“By next week, latest. My brother has to go back to work so I will need to get back to look after my father.”

“Will you have finished your draft by then?”

“I hope so,” said Gwen. “I’m almost done. And you can tell Merlin that he should read chapter 10 carefully.”

Arthur’s hand covered hers. “You’re going to make Merlin very happy. And I am going to be very happy when you get back into the city.”

Gwen lifted Arthur’s hand and kissed his palm.

“Gwen,” said Arthur as they stood in the driveway after breakfast. He held her hands, swinging them slightly. “Come with me to my father’s birthday party.”

“Oh.” She’d wondered about whether Arthur would invite her and her feelings about the matter had flip-flopped so often she didn’t even know whether she wanted to be invited. “Well -”

The smile disappeared and a slight frown replaced it. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“Of course I want to.” She nodded vigorously, as if doing so would shake out any doubts she had in her mind. “Definitely.”

Arthur didn’t look fully convinced but he bent and kissed her anyway. “Great. It’s next weekend so you should be back in the city by then. Let me know when you want to get back, I’ll come get you.”

This made Gwen smile. “And we drive back separately in two cars? Don’t be silly. I drove here on my own and I can drive back on my own as well. You had better go - don’t want to be late for work.”

“I’ll call you after my shift.” With those words and another kiss, Arthur got into his car and drove off.

Gwen continued waving until his car was nothing but a speck in the distance. Then, she went back into the house, inhaled the bacon smell that still lingered and grabbed her notebook.

 

* * *

 

An accident led to Gwen being stuck in traffic for most of the afternoon and forgetting to charge her phone meant it died halfway through her trip back, so by the time she arrived at her apartment in the city in the middle of the night, she was tired, grumpy and not in the mood for the message Arthur left.

The party is a black tie event so you might want to get something appropriate to wear. Ask Morgana. I think she has a personal shopper you can use. Charge whatever you want to me ok? And call me when you finally get back.

Rolling her eyes, she tossed her phone onto the sofa, dropped her bag next to it then went into the bathroom where she took a nice long hot shower. Despite that, the moment she stepped out of the shower, she could barely sum up the energy to pull on her pyjamas before collapsing onto her bed.

The next morning she woke up to twenty missed calls from Arthur and several increasingly frantic messages.

“Arthur,” she mumbled into her phone, swearing when it went to his voice mail. “I’m home. I’m fine. Just tired. I’ll talk to you later.”

She spent the rest of her morning tidying up her apartment, putting a kettle on and sipping tea as she took one last look at her draft. Arthur messaged her throughout the day and Gwen found herself making plans to join him for drinks at a pub after his shift. At lunch, she called her father, glad to hear that he was sounding well, then went back to working on her draft. She had to send it to her editor by tonight before she met Arthur for drinks.

The pub was bursting at the seams, apparently because it was quiz night. Gwen lingered outside the entrance, waiting for Arthur to show. She bounced and tugged her coat tighter around her, trying to warm up as the night air cooled. Loud, boisterous laughter caught her attention and she turned to see a group of men walking towards her. One of them waved at her and she squinted. Merlin. She waved back and caught sight of Arthur slightly behind. Her heart did a little flip and she knew she was smiling widely.

Merlin grabbed her into a hug the moment he could. “This,” he said to the two other men in the group, “is the fantastic author of my favourite book. Leon and Gwaine, Morgana’s husband. And of course, you know Arthur.”

Arthur shook his head, slipped one arm around Gwen’s waist and tugged her close to him. His whispered greeting was clearly for her ears only and his hot breath against her ear sent tingles down Gwen’s spine. “Let’s get inside and get a table. Are you up for a pub quiz?”

“Oh, definitely,” said Gwen, leaning into Arthur.

Arthur’s friends were a fun lot and with them, Arthur loosened up, very much unlike the man she’d met in the holiday home that first night. But then again, Arthur hadn’t been that man once they became friends. Despite their best efforts, which included Gwaine flirting with the game hosts and Merlin negotiating every answer, their group, The Doctors, didn’t win. Gwaine left early, having to take over care of Gerty from Morgana and Leon said he had to get to bed early for an early shift, leaving just the three of them in the pub, having one last drink.

“How’s your father?” Arthur asked when Merlin wandered off in search for more drinks.

“He says he’s feeling good. But he never tells me when he’s feeling poorly, so I’m not sure whether to believe him or not.”

Arthur nodded. “Some patients can be quite stubborn about not being sick.”

“We could have had his cancer diagnosed earlier if he had been more willing to see a doctor. I practically had to drag him to one.”

“It must have been tough for you.”

Gwen snuggled into Arthur’s side. “He’s in remission so hopefully, it’ll all be better. Also, I am now dating a doctor. Surely that should my life easier.”

Arthur kissed the top of her head. “Of course. Come home with me tonight?”

“Sounds like a great idea.”

They were snuggling in Arthur’s huge bed when Arthur mentioned shopping for something to wear. “Morgana said she would be glad to help you shop for something for Sunday. You should call her.”

“I think I have an appropriate dress. I wore it for the launch of my first book.” Gwen shifted slightly from Arthur.

Arthur rubbed the back of his neck. “Maybe you should let me see it.”

“It’s probably not very fancy but I think it’ll do.”

“Gwen,” said Arthur. “You’ve never been to one of these events before. There will be media and lots of judgemental people, including my father. At the very least, you will need to dress the part.”

“Are you afraid that I will embarrass you?” Gwen moved further from Arthur. It was bad enough when she had to deal with her own worries about the relationship, but to have Arthur come out and say that he was worried about how she dressed? When their relationship was hidden in that tiny village, all was fine but now, back in the city, apparently Arthur was having second thoughts.

He reached for her but she dodged his arm. “Of course not. But I am worried that you’ll feel out of place.”

She got out of the bed. “You know, if you are so worried about me fitting in, then perhaps you shouldn’t have started anything with me.”

“You’re being unreasonable. I just want you to -”

“- look like blonde Elena?

Arthur frowned and left the bed as well, walking towards her. “Blonde Elena? What - Are you jealous of her?”

“No, I’m not jealous.” She rubbed her forehead, trying to fend off the headache she could feel building. Maybe he was right and she was being unreasonable about this. “Fine. If you want me to buy some fancy dress for this, I will.”

His arms went around her and Gwen felt his lips on her head. “It will be easier this way.”

“Yeah,” she said into his chest. “Ok.”

Arthur lifted her chin and kissed her, his lips clinging to hers, his kiss desperate. Her hands went into his hair as her body melted into him. Finally, Arthur pulled away, his eyes warm and full of affection as he stared at her.

“Come back to bed, please?”

Gwen took his hand and let him lead her back to his bed, letting the desire that flared between them push her doubts from her head.


	13. Chapter 13

“A doctor. And not just any doctor but Uther Penn’s son? You have moved up in the world, Gwen.”

Gwen scowled at Elyan as she settled down on the sofa next to her father. “He’s just a normal man.”

“Mmm,” said her father. “A Penn is never ordinary.”

There was muted disapproval in her father’s words and Gwen turned her attention to him. “You don’t like him?”

“I don’t know anything about his son, but Uther Penn is a cold-blooded snake. Remember Nimueh and how he screwed her over?”

“Arthur isn’t like his father,” said Gwen firmly. “He isn’t. Have you been taking your medicine?”

Tom shook his head. “Don’t change the subject on me. When did you start dating him?”

“It’s been a few weeks. We’re just dating. I’m not marrying him.”

“So it’s a casual thing?” Elyan passed her a glass of water then perched on the arm of the sofa. “I approve.”

Gwen rolled her eyes and sipped at the water. “I sent my book to my editor.”

“That’s great, Gwen.”

Elyan clinked his glass of water against hers. “Brilliant work. So what’s next?”

“I’ve some freelance articles lined up and I’m working on a new series.”

“You know what you should do? When Arthur and you break up, write a nice expose on him. No one can get enough of the Penn family.”

“Elyan -”

“At least bring him over for us to meet. I’ve always wanted to meet a Penn.”

“Elyan -”

Later that night, as she lay on her bed in her childhood room, Gwen stared up at the glow-in-the-dark stars that were still on her ceiling. Her phone beeped but it wasn’t Arthur, just Morgana reminding her of the shopping trip they had scheduled. Placing her phone on her bedside table, Gwen’s mind went back to the conversation after dinner. She squeezed her eyes close and tried not to listen to that little voice in her head that was asking her just what on earth she was doing dating someone like Arthur Penn.

 

* * *

 

The more she tried on the dresses Morgana suggested, the more she questioned what she was doing with Arthur. She remembered suggesting to Arthur a short, fun fling at first, then somehow they both got tangled into something more serious, something that could become much more permanent.

“Nope.” Seated on a plush chair just outside the fitting room Gwen had just emerged from, Morgana cradled Gerty as she shook her head.

Gwen sighed and turned to allow the young salesgirl to unzip the dress. “You haven’t liked any of the dresses.”

“Try the yellow one. I like that one,” said Morgana, ignoring Gwen’s growing frustration. “You’ll need new shoes, some jewellery and maybe a new haircut.”

“No.” Immediate and curt, Gwen regretted how ungrateful she sounded and so she bit back the rest of her response.

Morgana made a noise that probably signalled disapproval but after hours of trying on a rack of dresses, Gwen was tired and cranky. It was uncomfortable enough that Arthur was spending a ton of money, albeit money that he apparently had more than enough of, on a dress but to have him spend even more money on a full makeover was crossing a line. What line that was, Gwen was far too exhausted to articulate.

“I look like a fluffy duck.”

Morgana pressed her lips together and cocked her head. “That is an apt description. It’s not very flattering. Try that blue one.”

The blue one was fitting, so fitting it pinched her waist in and gave her a deeper cleavage than she’d ever seen on herself. She cupped her breasts and pushed them up, marvelling at just how much more cleavage she was able to give herself. This is why people spent hundreds of dollars on bras.

“A nice wrap and you’ll look wonder -”

“Gorgeous.”

Gwen, whose attention had been focused on her suddenly voluptuous figure, looked up, her eyes meeting Arthur’s in the mirror. His gaze dropped to her chest, before meeting hers again, this time with a smile on his lips and a gleam in his eyes.

The young salesgirl bent her head and darted out of the dressing room, the door closing with a soft snick.

Gwen barely had time to breath his name before he was pressed up against her back, his hands warm against the curve of her hips. Then, his lips were on her jaw, barely a touch before moving down to her throat and whatever she had been about to say fled her mind. She watched as her breasts rose and fell with every breath that shuddered through her, unable to move when Arthur slowly eased the zip down and cool air hit her heated skin.

“Arthur -”

His hands slipped beneath the volumes of cloth, his fingers playing with the band of her underwear. Against her back, Gwen could feel his erection and the pounding of his heart. She should stop this - the dressing room of an upscale boutique with Morgana and Gerty sitting outside was not in any way a suitable location for what was about to happen. Arthur’s teeth grazed the skin between her neck and shoulder, her legs buckled and she stretched out a hand to steady herself, leaving a smudged palm print on the mirror. Then, pushing away that sensible voice in her head, Gwen turned her head, allowing Arthur to capture her lips with his.

Thankfully, the seat in which Morgana had been lounging and critiquing her dresses was empty and Gwen looked at Arthur.

“I told her to leave. Gerty was fussing.” He shrugged and the heap of blue cloth in his arms moved. “Let’s pay for this and get out of here. I’m hungry and I think you’re sick of shopping.”

“I am,” said Gwen. “I guess we have no choice but to buy that dress, after - well, you know.”

Arthur shot her a quick smile. “I like the dress.”

Immediately, heat rose in her cheeks and she blinked away the image of the two them in the mirror of the dressing room, Arthur’s blonde hair against her skin as he suckled her neck, his pale hand beneath the slip of silk between her legs, teasing her until she tasted blood when she bit down to stop herself from making too much noise.

Lunch was a leisurely one at a small pub tucked away from the main street. As if sensing how stressful the shopping trip had been, Arthur avoided the topic of the birthday party and his father. Instead, he coaxed Gwen to tell him about the next series of books that she was planning.

“I’m almost disappointed that this series doesn’t have rampaging, murderous unicorns rebelling against their fathers.”

Gwen laughed. “Before I can work on that, I’ve a few articles I need to writing. Then I can start sketching something out.”

“Sounds like you’re going to be pretty busy.”

“You’re pretty busy yourself. I’m actually surprised that you’re here. Didn’t you just come off a night shift?”

“I did.” He took her hand. “But I wanted to see you, plus Morgana said you were getting antsy. Didn’t want to be dumped because of a bad shopping trip.”

“So you seduced me in the dressing room?”

Arthur’s smile was both warm and teasing. “A very good idea, I thought.”

+

He had offered to pick her up but Gwen had said that she would go with Morgana since Gwaine was staying at home to look after Gerty. And so Arthur was trying to nod as the mayor of Camelot was speaking to him and his father, while keeping one eye on the entrance and trying to stop the knot that what in his stomach from getting too big. Some people loved the ostentatiousness, the over-the-top luxury and the smell of money in the air. Others didn’t. Arthur had the suspicion that Gwen was one of the latter.

And then there was the matter of his father who had seated Mithian, daughter of Rodor, Minister of Health next to him. Having avoided his father most of the day, Arthur was unsure if this was another of his father’s matchmaking attempts or if this was another of his father’s attempts to start his political career.

Morgana loved arriving late for such events. Usually, Arthur wouldn’t care at all - it took the attention off him, but today, as the minutes slowly ticked by, Arthur tugged on his collar and shifted in his seat.

A hand touched his and he jumped, eliciting a laugh from Mithian.

“I assume the empty chair next to you is for your date.”

“Did my father tell you that?” Arthur didn’t want to know what his father had been saying about Gwen. Uther hadn’t been too impressed that Arthur was dating a writer but he had been far too preoccupied with this dinner to say much, which was how Arthur liked it.

Mithian shook her head. “You’ve been glancing at the door every other second, tapping on the table and generally been very preoccupied. You’re very good at the whole charming people thing - I’ve seen you - and you’ve not even tried at all this evening. I doubt you’re fretting over Morgana.”

“Observant,” said Arthur. “I -”

A hush descended over the room and Arthur forgot what he had to say when Morgana finally arrived. Dressed in a red dress that clung to her curves and showed quite a bit of leg, Morgana commanded the attention of most of the people in the room, but Arthur, unsurprisingly, had only eyes for the woman who was clearly attempting to avoid any attention by walking slightly behind Morgana.

It wasn’t as if Arthur hadn’t seen Gwen in the dress before but with her hair up with little flowers threaded through it and her eyes enhanced by the magic of makeup, she was stunning. The dress had made her look gorgeous in that small dressing room but with the lights of the ballroom glinting off the sequins on her dress, Arthur thought she looked like an angel. Lights flashed as photographers scrambled to take Morgana’s photos and Gwen cringed. The movement was slight and Arthur suspected that no one except him noticed her discomfort.

It took only a few steps for him to get to Gwen’s side, his hand slipping into hers and squeezing. The look of relief and gratitude that Gwen shot him made him want to pull her into his embrace and escape from this dinner.

“I’m ok,” said Gwen, as if reading his mind. “Now that you’re here.”

Arthur slid his arm around her waist and kissed the side of her forehead, causing even more lights to flash.

“Don’t they already have enough photos?”

As quickly as possible, Arthur led her to his table. Not that it was much better as Uther stood, one of his false smiles pasted on his face.

“You must be Guinevere,” said Uther, his hand outstretched.

Gwen took it with a smile. “I am. I am honoured to meet you Mr Penn. Happy birthday.”

“Thank you. Come, take a seat.”

Before Uther could launch into any sort of interrogation of Gwen, his attention was diverted by some men who approached their table, much to Arthur’s relief.

“I hope at least the food is good.”

“It probably won’t be like that Italian restaurant,” whispered Arthur. “But it will be good. You look wonderful.”

Her eyes ran over him, lit with amusement. Her hand reached up and tugged at his bowtie. “You look delicious. The food is going to have some stiff competition.”

Overall, the dinner went well. There were several boring speeches extolling his father’s various virtues that Arthur were sceptical existed but with Gwen next to him, they were painless to sit through. Instead, they teased each other under the table with light touches and gentle bumps and giggled over Arthur remarks on the speeches celebrating Uther. He fed her from his plate, pleasure flooding him when she closed her lips over his fork as she looked at him through her eyelashes.

“The food is exquisite,” she sighed as her eyes fluttered close.

“Keep doing that and we’re going to have to leave early.”

“That would be terribly inappropriate.”

“Very,” Arthur agreed. “Almost as bad as the dressing room. But so very worth it.”

Just before dessert, Gwen excused herself. “I just need to powder my nose,” she said with a grin. “I’ve always wanted to say that.”

Arthur kissed her cheek. “Don’t take too long.”

But she did take quite some time, enough that Arthur went off to look for her. When, turning a corner, Arthur saw her, hands clutching her skirt at the sides, her lips pressed together as she stood listening to his father. Dread and anger filled him.

“Father.”

“Arthur. I was just talking to Gwen. Such a smart woman.” Not even waiting for Arthur to reply, Uther turned and walked back to the ballroom.

“What did he say?”

Gwen let out a sigh and shook her head. “Nothing important.”

“Guinevere.” He grabbed her hand, stopping her from turning away. “What did he say?”

“Nothing new. We’re from different worlds. You need a wife who would be an asset to your career and so on.”

“He is an ass,” said Arthur, forcing his voice to remain calm, despite the anger churning in him. “Don’t listen to him. I don’t care that we’re from different worlds and my career is fine. But do you know what I care about?”

Gwen’s eyes were wide and Arthur wondered if he’d been unsuccessful in modulating his voice. “What,” she asked but Arthur suspected she knew the answer when she cradled his face in her hands. “What do you care about.”

“You,” he said. “You, because you make everything better.”

“Everything?”

“Everything.” Arthur dipped his head and kissed her. Her arms immediately went around his neck and she pressed herself against him.

“You make everything better too,” she said when they finally stopped kissing. Her fingers were still in his hair and her body still flushed against his. “Do you think anyone would notice if we left early?”

Arthur grinned. “After what my father tried to pull, I don’t really care.”

 

* * *

 

Her dress was tossed across his sofa and his own clothes were strewn on the floor but neither of them really cared, not when they were entwined together on Arthur’s comfortable bed. He pushed himself up on one elbow and ran a finger across her swollen lips. Her eyes were half-closed and she smiled slightly at his touch.

“I love you.”

The words just came out. Arthur hadn’t planned it, hadn’t really thought about it but seeing Gwen, her hair fanning across his pillow, her naked body tangled in his sheets and her eyes dark with emotion, there was nothing else he could think about.

Her eyes widened and her lips parted. “Oh.”

Regret immediately set in.

“It’s not important,” he murmured, laying back down on the bed and staring at the ceiling.

“Arthur.”

The thought that she wanted to discuss why she couldn’t tell him that she loved him too was too painful to bear, so he ignored her and closed his eyes.

Then, he heard her laugh and her lips were on his face, kissing his nose and his eyes.

“Arthur you fool.”

He opened his eyes and instead of the ceiling, he looked up into her brown eyes. “Why am I a fool?”

“Because I love you too. And even your father can’t scare me away.”

“Come here.” Arthur reached for her, pulling her down until she straddled him and her hair fell over his face, tickling him. He lifted his head and kissed her.


End file.
